


Howls & Arrows

by howl-to-the-wind (greenleaf)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Crossover, BAMF Stiles, Banshee Lydia, Dark Magic, Elemental Magic, F/M, Hunters, M/M, Mates, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Natural Disasters, Pack in College, Pining, Secret Identity, Spark Stiles, Spells & Enchantments, Superheroes, Supernatural - Freeform, bamf Felicity, pack bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenleaf/pseuds/howl-to-the-wind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles could barely breathe as he read through the contents of the notebook, his eyes scanning the design of a device, a seismic device. Someone wanted to replicate the earthquake that hit Starling City two years ago. Someone wanted to destroy Beacon Hills the same way it leveled the Glades and killed hundreds of lives.</p><p>The Pack won’t be able to handle this alone. They needed to call in some help.</p><p>(Teen Wolf x Arrow AU crossover.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> **UPDATE: (12/17/2014)** This status of this fic is currently: idek. I think I might get back into this if I'm inspired, or I might not, so I honestly don't know. Sorry about that.
> 
> -
> 
> Yeah, I am going to kill myself with this. Yes, I am.
> 
> You don't have to watch BOTH series to get it. So long as you know one, you can probably follow along. In case I get all messed up, just hit me a comment.
> 
> For those who watch Arrow, this all happens after Season 1. We will have no Isabel, or Barry, or Black Canary, and no Raz al dhul (maybe? Fuck, I love the League). For those who watch Teen Wolf, this is definitely an AU where everyone is alive and Derek is happy, the way it should be. Also, this might be more Teen Wolf-centric than Arrow considering the setting, but I have lots of plans for Team Arrow.
> 
> Enjoy.

“Have the report on my desk by tomorrow morning,” Stiles heard his Dad saying from the hall. “We’ll look into it then. I’ll drop by the coroner’s on my way.”

Stiles was shrugged none-too-gently by a scowling Lydia. “Concentrate, Stiles.”

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered as he went back to the runes he was writing down on the table. When he finished, he reached inside his spark and the series of runes he had been writing down started glowing.

“That’s good,” Lydia said, checking the thick book in front of her. She sounded less than impressed.

“Of course it’s good,” Stiles scowled. “I’ve been doing this for a year now. I can do it in my sleep.”

“Calm down, you two,” Derek said, stepping between them.

Lydia glared at him. “Shut up and finish it, Stilinski.”

“Why don’t you try doing it if you’re so impatient?” Stiles bit back.

“Woah, simmer down, kids,” his Dad said walking inside the library.

“Jet lag is not doing wonders for you two,” Derek said, stroking Stiles’ arm.

Stiles sighed, trying to calm himself. He nodded to Lydia who pulled out a lighter and burned the paper of runes. Stiles pulled out a small dagger and a vial from his belt bag. Once the entire paper was burnt and the fire died out, Stiles swept the ashes into the vial. He then brought the dagger to the meat of his palm, making it bleed. He saw Derek twitch somewhat unconsciously. He knew Derek’s wolf hated him getting hurt in any way, even if it was on purpose.

His Dad hovered over his shoulder curiously as Stiles placed a few droplets inside the vial along with the ashes.

“Any thoughts?” Stiles asked, smiling.

“Um.” His Dad’s face scrunched up in thought. “Deaton is gonna use this spell thing which he can’t do because he isn’t a sparker like you. So you give him your blood?”

“Got it in one, Dad,” Stiles said, laughing when his Dad puffed proudly. His Dad had been insistent on learning all the magical stuff he could and Stiles liked it when his Dad was on the same page as he was.

Stiles wiped his bloody palm on his jeans. By then his spark had already healed the cut anyway. “Deaton’s not a sparker and he has his own brand of magic. My blood will make sure it works for him.”

“Stiles, come on,” Lydia said, sighing and rubbing her neck. “We have five more to do and I want to sleep.”

“Just a bit more,” Derek said, rubbing her arm comfortingly. Lydia nodded to her Alpha.

Stiles nodded and got to work, drawing more runes. Lydia checked each rune meticulously even though Stiles knew that she knew he drew them perfectly. But it was better safe than sorry. After making six different spells and bottling them up with his blood, they were nearly done. He lined the bottles and Lydia drew a circle of chalk around them.

“Ok, step back,” Stiles said.

Stiles held both palms out, summoning his spark to his fingers. His hands glowed green and he vaguely heard Derek sniff the air. Since the magic of spark users, or sparkers, originated internally, their magic had a unique scent. Derek and Scott mentioned on separate occasions that Stiles’ spark smelled like a more electric-y version of his natural scent.

_“Tirida hinie teve sotor.”_

There was a rush of wind through the open windows and Stiles could see the orange-y sheen of a barrier surrounding the bottles. It disappeared after a few seconds and when Stiles looked at the bottles, the ashes and blood were gone and all that’s left was colored smoke.

“Perfect,” Stiles said, satisfied.

“I still get goosebumps when I see you do that, kid,” his Dad said, walking over to sling an arm around his shoulders. “The good kind though.”

Stiles smiled, settling against his Dad. It had taken a few years but he was glad he and his Dad had gotten to this point, where his Dad knew everything and was more than accepting of the pack, Stiles’ role as pack emissary, and his new stint as a sparker. Oh, and being Derek’s mate, too.

Lydia let out a delicate snort as she started packing way. “This is a pretty nice way to start our first day back at Beacon Hills.”

Stiles wrapped an arm around her. “Think of it like this: at least it’s not like the redcap last spring.”

“Or the wendigo last Thanksgiving,” John spoke up.

“Or the sirens last Valentine’s,” Derek added.

Lydia let out a breath. “Ok. Point taken. Doing spellwork is actually pretty tame.” She sighed, stretching out and drooping against Stiles.

“Once the entire pack’s here and slept off the jet lag, we’ll all be right as rain,” Stile said. “Hopefully we can actually enjoy summer vacation without the supernatural nipping at our heels.”

Derek packed the vials away. “Thank you,” he said, kissing Stiles’ cheek and touching the back of Lydia’s neck.

“What time is everyone else coming in?” Stiles heard his Dad ask Derek as he herded Stiles and Lydia to the living room. “We already have the Stanford kids back home, which is surprising.”

Stiles agreed. While Stanford wasn’t as far compared to where the others were coming from, Stiles and Lydia were usually last to come in due to all the homework they got saddled with. They both already have plans to take a Masters afterwards and that was a lot of years to be away from the pack. They were determined to graduate a semester, or even a year, early to shave off the many years.

Jackson and Danny attend university at Boston, the former at BU and the latter at MIT. They couldn’t get in an earlier flight and were arriving later tonight. Allison was at UChicago, which was both her parents’ alma maters. Chris already flew over there three days ago and the father-daughter decided to take a road trip on the way back. They were due in a couple of hours. The rest of the pack, Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, all attend UCLA. Boyd and Isaac had had some last minute work to finish and all of them decided to just drive home tomorrow early morning.

Stiles looked at the pictures hanging on the wall as they walked down the hall, dragging along a half-asleep Lydia. The Hale house had become their home, with its wrap-around porch, two floors full of rooms for the pack, an attic, a humongous garage, and a sprawling lawn, and Stiles was always happy to be back home.

Stiles heard his father’s low chuckle. “It’s a nice change of pace to see these two home first.”

“I agree,” Derek said.

Stiles let out a squeak of delight upon seeing that Derek had already set out one of the large mattress they used for pack sleepovers. Derek helped Lydia toe off her heels and told her to loosen up her belt before letting her curl up.

“Love you, Dad,” he said and nosedived right in beside Lydia.

“Love you, kid,” his Dad said. “Be seeing you, Derek.”

“See you later, Sheriff,” Derek said.

Stiles hummed appreciatively as Derek took off his shoes and socks and his beltbag. “You’re awesome. I love you. We can have sex later when I’m awake enough to participate.”

Derek chuckled. “I love you too. Get some sleep. I’ll lock up and be back in an hour or so after I deliver these to Deaton and dropped by Dara’s place.”

Stiles felt Derek kiss his temple and then nuzzled at his neck for a while before he fell asleep.

When Stiles woke up hours later, Lydia was still asleep beside him and when he checked the clock on the wall, it was a quarter to five. He’d been asleep for two hours.

Stiles yawned, stretching his arms. He stood up and made his way to the kitchen. Melissa and his father were still at work. Chris and Allison wouldn’t be here until seven and Jackson and Danny weren’t due home until around midnight. Derek was probably in the house somewhere but the kitchen was empty and it looked like dinner wasn’t prepared yet.

“Derek?” he called out. He jogged up to the master bedroom, peeking in.

Stiles shrugged. Dara probably kept him.

Dara Danner was one of the sparkers that trained Stiles through the past years. She was a ‘friend’ of Deaton’s, even though everyone was pretty sure there was something going on there. The werewolves said they never smelled anything odd, but everyone was still keeping their eyes, ears, and noses peeled for signs.

It wasn’t unusual for Dara to keep Derek for an hour or two. She traveled a lot so she had acquaintances all over the country she did spell jobs for. She and Derek usually talked about some of the creatures she met.

Stiles shrugged. It was too early to make dinner and while he was still trying to shake off the jet lag, he was a bit too wired to sleep. So he grabbed his jacket and sneakers and decided to take a walk.

The forest was comforting to Stiles and he could feel his spark sizzle whenever he touched the trees. Trees were among the most magical entities there is, thrumming with the pure energy of the earth and were a representation of the cycle of life and growth. Magic users always gravitate to sources of energy like these and Stiles was more than glad to live with the forest literally at his backyard.

Stiles hummed tunelessly under his breath as he walked. He was in Hale property and there were more than a few runes, spells, and traps the pack set up so he knew he was safe.

There was a shimmer in the air and Stiles turned to where he felt it. A shadowy figure was weaving between the trees a few yards away. The figure was covered completely in black that even a black band was covering the eyes. It wasn’t unusual for some random people or supernatural creatures to accidentally end up in Hale territory so he didn’t immediately start the threats.

“Excuse me?” Stiles called out, jogging towards the figure.

The figure whipped around.

“Hey there. This is private property. Are you lost?” Stiles called out, waving a hand.

The next thing he knew he was letting out a yelp as a dagger came flying at him, clipping him on the arm but not injuring him. Thank god for his jacket.

“Well, ok then.” Stiles gritted his teeth as the figure ran.

Stiles ran after him, ducking between trees when the figure threw some more daggers at him.

Stiles summoned his spark.

_“Sem cevosi!”_

Stiles felt his energy burst out of him, directing it right at his target. The figure seemed to anticipate it, ducking behind a tree. The tree shook when the rush of energy hit it. Stiles heaved a breath and ran faster. His target ducked out of the trees and ran.

_“Sem cevosi!”_

The energy pulsed through the air a second time. It managed to knock his target off its feet. Stiles pushed himself and ran. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pounced.

The other person was smaller than him but strong. He managed to push Stiles off, knocking him on the face with an elbow. Stiles held on, not letting go. They rolled around the floor, the figure grunting and huffing and Stiles cursing a mile a minute. Stiles managed to grab a wrist and pulled hard. The figure grunted and swung his other arm, catching Stiles on the side of the face.

Suddenly there was a howl off in the distance.

Derek had spent many an afternoon teaching everyone, even the Pack parents, on how to recognize howls. Everyone now knew the basics, such as how to recognize a howl for help and how to make the trademark Pack howl. Stiles had taken it a step farther. He was actually a tad versed in how to recognize each wolf’s particular howl.

Even if he didn’t already know Derek was the only werewolf around, he knew that was definitely Derek’s howl.

Stiles dug in harder. He just had to hold on. Derek would easily find him.

They exchanged a few punches and Stiles managed to direct most of it to the person’s torso. The other person was squirming though and hard to get a hold of. And Stiles couldn’t get enough of a breather to mutter a binding spell as the other tried to get to his face. There was a tearing sound as Stiles tugged on something. The figure suddenly kicked him on the stomach and Stiles was pushed back. He managed to grab an ankle but had to let go when a kick was aimed at his face. Stiles tried to grab more of his target only to freeze when he felt something painful hit his shoulder. The figure stumbled back.

Suddenly there was a flash of light. By the time Stiles got his vision right, the person was gone.

“SHIT!” Stiles slammed a fist against the ground. The motion jarred his entire arm and Stiles winced. He could see the dagger embedded in the meat of his shoulder.

Stiles struggled to sit up. He pulled out the dagger, and pressed a hand to his bleeding shoulder. “Aww, fuck. Derek’s not gonna like this. And Dad. And Melissa. And Scott.”

He sat there for a moment, chest heaving, body aching, and his shoulder bleeding. He tried to catalogue his injuries, dagger to the shoulder, probably a litany of bruises across his face, scratches along his arms, and an aching torso.

Stiles reached into his spark, using it to get his body to start healing a little.

“Stiles!”

Lydia.

Stiles reared back and howled, something to make it easier for them to find him. He let out a relieved sigh when Derek howled back.

Stiles looked down at his shoulder. It was already half-healed, but it seemed that was all it was going to be able to do for now. The runes he made earlier had sapped his energy and his nap earlier hadn’t been able to recharge him much.

That was when Stiles saw it.

A little black notebook half-hidden under a shred of cloth.

It was from earlier.

Stiles picked it up just as Derek came bounding in through the woods.

* * *

Two years ago, an earthquake hit Starling City and leveled the Glades, the city’s poorest district. The incident resulted in hundreds of lives lost and it was only now that the city was starting to get back on its feet.

In the past years, Oliver Queen, billionaire and now CEO of Queen Consolidated has been nothing but busy. It had taken hard work, blood, and sweat to return his company to its former glory and atone for his family’s involvement in the disaster that hit the Glades. While Queen Consolidated wasn’t as powerful now as it was before, he had done enough groundwork to keep Queen slowly but surely rising to power and keeping its many employees and their jobs intact. Oliver also tried to make amends to the city that the death threats he was sent had now withered down to three times a week at the most.

All in all, it was an improvement.

By day, Oliver was still running the company as best as he could with the help of his younger sister Thea and an army of advisors that included his ex-stepfather, Walter. At night, he was still protecting the streets of Starling City as vigilante-turned-hero The Arrow, and right beside him was his team, Diggle and Felicity.

Felicity was at his ear, blabbing as she always did. Oliver had gotten used to it in the past years and he was actually more worried whenever he didn’t have the blonde’s running commentary in his ear.

_“–turn right at the end. I’m halfway through cracking the code to get you in. There are no cameras inside, so be careful. I have the pinhole cam on your suit activated though so I’m still with you.”_

“Thanks, Felicity,” Oliver said as he pulled his trademark green hood further over his face and crept as silently as he could down the hall, his trusty bow in hand. He reached the door and saw the red light turn green with a click.

As soon as he pushed open the door, he had to close it as it started raining bullets.

There was a squeak in his ear. _“Didn’t I tell you to be careful?!”_

Oliver growled under his breath. The second the gunshots stopped, Oliver darted out for a second and let loose an arrow. It hit someone on the arm. He waited for another pause in the gunfire before letting loose another arrow and darting behind a crate he had seen inside the room. At his ear, Felicity’s breathing and small gasps were a constant background noise.

Oliver gritted his teeth at the continuous rain of gunfire. He looked up and saw a green blinking light. He pressed a button on his suit and flashed a green light back.

“I got Dig on sight, Felicity,” Oliver said.

_“Got it. Be careful.”_

Diggle had infiltrated the group a day prior to gather intel and prepare for the Arrow’s visit to the group and because of that he didn’t have a communicator on him. The team had gotten a tip from Roy about a group of shifty-eyed individuals sneaking in crates of weapons at a downtown warehouse. Roy managed to get a handful of bullets and deliver it to the Arrow, but Felicity for all her skills, was having a bit of trouble finding information about them. Not at all.

Oliver reared up and let loose two arrows, hitting one in the shoulder and another on the leg. He crouched down and started sneaking behind the crates. Above him, Diggle provided cover through a sniper rifle.

Oliver fired off an arrow at someone’s side. His eyes widened when he realized that the person he hit was the same one who had an arrow to the shoulder. In fact, it was still there. “Why the hell–” He ducked. He sent a few blinks of green light at Diggle and Diggle started firing.

Oliver leapt over the crate he was hiding behind as some of the bad guys pounced on him. He sent two sprawling with a few well-placed punches and a swipe of his bow. Thank god Felicity made him a better and sturdier one. He let out a grunt as someone barreled into him. He knocked him out with a head butt and a bullet from Diggle to his knee. Oliver gaped when he realized this one already had an arrow in his arm.

Oliver noticed that even the ones he had tried knocking out were already standing back up. Two against seven baddies who wouldn’t stay down. Oliver didn’t like those odds.

 _“What is going on?!”_ Felicity asked, voice edging on panicked. Oliver could hear her typing furiously. _“Why are they not staying down?! Are you hitting them right?! Well, not that there’s a wrong way to hit someone but oh my god! He already had an arrow in his shoulder! And bullets to the knee!”_

Oliver jumped up, grabbing an overhanging pipe and sent a kick to one’s head. He heard a sickening crack as the male stumbled back.

Felicity was continuing on. _“Oh my god! Are we dealing with zombies?!”_

Diggle had jumped down from his perch overhead and helped Oliver beat down a couple of the bad guys. For some reason they just keep getting up, complete with arrows and bullets already in them. One of them lunged at Oliver, knocking the archer on his back. Diggle had to incapacitate him with a fierce punch to the jaw.

“Ok, something weird is seriously going down here!” Diggle shouted as they took cover behind a crate.

Oliver took a breath as he adjusted his quiver on his back. He grabbed an extra communicator and handed it to Diggle. He placed it in his ear and tuned in right at the middle of Felicity’s rant.

_“–will freak at the idea of the undead! I mean seriously!”_

Oliver closed his eyes for a moment as a hunch formed in his head. Dear god, let it not be true. He reached behind him and pressed a button at the side of his quiver. He heard a hiss.

Suddenly, there was a loud roar.

“Holy shit! / _Oh my god!_ ” Diggle and Felicity exclaimed.

“Diggle, Felicity, calm down. They probably smelled the wolfsbane,” Oliver said, forceful and serious.

“The what?” Both Diggle and Felicity shouted.

“Diggle, regular bullets won’t work but make sure to hit them on the head. Leave the rest to me.”

“We’re killing them? / _What did you say?_ ” Diggle and Felicity asked, shocked.

Oliver was resolute. Questions could come later. “Felicity, access my phone. Get a call to Isis Lesedi. Tell them Oliver Queen is asking for a cleanup crew. Tell them everything. Now.”

 _“What’s going on?!”_ Felicity asked.

Oliver winced. “You wouldn’t believe me if I tell you but–”

Oliver and Diggle jumped back as something large leaped on top of the crates. The male was crouching low and his eyes were glowing yellow.

“Oh my god! Are those fangs?!” Diggle shouted. He shot it on the forehead.

Oliver wasn’t surprised when the man only shook his head, the bullet falling out within seconds and the wound already closing up. He let loose an arrow, hitting it on at the same spot. That time, it managed to stay down, clawing at its face to get at the wolfsbane-laced arrowhead.

“–but they’re werewolves.”

* * *

Stiles was on the couch, safe and curled up in Derek’s lap. Lydia was in the kitchen, getting them all drinks. He knew she was ratting him out to his Dad now, and probably Melissa. Stiles didn’t bother throwing a fit and he knew Derek had no plans of stopping Lydia. This was some surprise after their first day back at home.

Stiles shifted in Derek’s lap, wincing when his shoulder was jarred. He was already cleaned up and there weren’t any serious damages but Derek was not at all pleased at his bleeding shoulder and the bruises already starting to form on his face and torso. But there was nothing they could do about it.

Derek, who was attuned to Stiles’ heartbeat through their mate’s bond, had felt his distress and ran out on Dara to find him. Lydia had woken up when her banshee senses felt someone attack Stiles and came running, toting Stiles’ baseball bat. There wasn’t much they could do though because the scent trail stopped where they were standing. And Lydia couldn’t sense anything else. Derek couldn’t get a scent from the cloth Stiles ripped off the dude. It smelled like dirty earth, not a person’s scent. It was a dead-end.

Lydia walked into the room carrying two mugs of drinks. She handed them their mugs and Stiles sagged deeper into Derek’s lap at the first taste of coffee. He caught the scent of alcohol lacing Derek’s drink and gave Lydia a thankful look. It wasn’t going to affect him but it would give him a small buzz. Derek was still shaking a bit.

“You ok?” Lydia asked, tilting Stiles’ chin up and wincing at the bruises.

“Yeah,” Stiles said. He reached up, patting her shoulder comfortingly. “Lyds, I’m fine. And Derek’s sure as hell going to coddle me to death. Get some rest for a bit then we can figure this out.”

Lydia nodded, looking apologetic but also dead on her feet. She leaned over to nuzzle Derek, the Alpha curling a hand around her neck, and then folded herself into the loveseat with a blanket. She was asleep within seconds.

Stiles looked up at Derek, noting his frown, and leaned up, kissing him on the mouth. Derek immediately melted into him, and Stiles tried to appease him. That he was safe and warm in his arms and there was nothing to worry about. He coaxed Derek into stroking his neck, something to appease the wolf. And let Derek lick into his mouth, greedy and rough. When he pulled back gently, he kept close, nipping at Derek’s lips.

“I can hear you thinking,” Stiles said softly. “Sorry. I didn’t expect that at all.”

“It’s ok.” Derek sighed. “It could have been worse.” He tucked his face into Stiles’ neck, breathing him in.

“I could have used a binding spell or something,” Stiles said, fuming at himself.

He was a sparker and his magic originated internally so other than using his fists he was in no short supply of a way to defend himself when without a weapon. Stiles knew he was good at casting almost any kind of spell but he wasn’t good at non-verbal spellcasting.

“Do you have any idea what that could be?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head. “I can’t be sure. And my brain isn’t really up to par at the moment.” He winced.

The phone suddenly rang.

“Probably Dara,” Derek said, gently extracting himself from Stiles. “I’ll be quick.”

“Tell her about this, would you?” Stiles said, already fishing the notebook he found out from the side table. “The flash of light, the dagger, and the thing with the all black.”

Derek nodded and grabbed the ringing phone before it woke up Lydia.

Stiles started inspecting his find. It looked like a journal, worn black leather and brown pages. There was a number on the back, a three. Stiles frowned at it. He opened it and it looked about a third of the way filled.

Stiles looked at what was written down, but he was so tired he couldn’t really understand it. He scanned the pages. There were drawings on it and notes and numbers. There were about three pages that looked like it was filled with equations of some sort. Stiles sighed, letting the pages flip around. He was too tired to look at this.

He landed on a random page. There were words written on it, but one was underlined pretty heavily.

Markov.

Stiles squinted at it.

Markov?

Stiles felt something niggling at his brain as he stared at the page. He knew this name. He bit his thumbnail in thought as he went back at the pages, trying to understand what he was reading, trying to find the bigger picture hidden under all these messed up words.

He ran his hands through his hair.

Think. Think. Think.

“Stiles?” Derek called out, looking in from the hall.

Stiles was deep in thought, scanning the pages.

He landed on a word. Unidac.

Unidac. Markov.

Stiles scrambled up, grabbing the tablet from Lydia’s bag on the coffee table. He accessed the Internet, planning to pull up all his databases but it didn’t take much to find out.

Unidac Industries was once a subsidiary of Queen Consolidated until it was dissolved following its creation of the…

The Markov seismic device.

It was like a flipbook in Stiles’ brain.

The Starling City earthquake two years ago.

It was on the news all over the country, the world even. The one that killed hundreds of people in the Glades, the most underprivileged section of the city. It was revealed that the earthquake was caused by a seismic device. Stiles and his Dad had followed the news on TV years ago, shocked that such a thing was possible.

“Stiles? What’s wrong?” Derek asked, approaching but not stopping him. He was used to Stiles’ sudden erratic bursts of ideas.

Stiles scanned the pages again, looking closer at the drawings. Now that his brain was working, he could see what they were: a circuit board, a trigger, a clamp mechanism, a transmitter.

They were parts of a device.

Stiles felt his stomach drop in realization.

“Holy shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We didn’t get much of the other wolves here yet. Awww... Just laying out the groundwork first. And we’ll get more back story on Team Arrow in the next chapter. Wee.
> 
> If you guys have questions, feel free to hit me up in the comments or on tumblr. Speaking of tumblr, it’s shameless self-promotion time! The title for the fic is also the title of my [tumblr](http://howl-to-the-wind.tumblr.com). I don’t reblog regularly but when I do, it is awesome. HA! (No, it actually kinda sucks.)


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “First of all, we should probably get it out of the way,” Oliver said. “Werewolves are real.”
> 
> Felicity let out a rather high-pitched giggle of disbelief while Diggle sighed.
> 
> “This just turned into some supernatural television show, let me tell you that,” Felicity said, going back to her tablet. She typed as she talked. “What else is real? Vampires? Witches? The boogie monster? Sasquatch? Kaijus?”
> 
> \---
> 
> That’s when Stiles told them the contents of the notebook and everything went to shit.
> 
> “That’s impossible!” Erica shouted.
> 
> “That is one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard!” Jackson agreed.
> 
> “And what is up with our lives that we can say it is not _the most_ absurd thing we have to face,” Boyd muttered.

Felicity was pacing the office, her heels making clack-clack noises on the tiled floor. She turned to Diggle, who was leaning against the wall, frowning.

“I know you were getting shot and, like, growled at the time, but I’m pretty sure you heard what I heard, right?” Felicity asked, still pacing and now with hands waving as she talked. “Oliver really did say werewolves, right? Like, my hearing wasn’t shot to death at that moment, right? Because there are zero words in the English language that could possibly be pronounced in any way similar to the word werewolves.”

Diggle sighed. “Felicity, I don’t need to have my hearing checked. What I need is to check my eyes.” He raised an eyebrow. “You saw the whole thing too. How many times have you watched the video footage you got?”

Felicity rocked back and forth on her heels. “Oh, about eighteen times now, or eighteen-ish because I keep going forwards and backwards trying to find something wrong in the video but nope.” She popped her lips on the ‘p’. She flopped back down on her desk chair.

“By the way, did you get anything on that wolfsbane?” Diggle asked.

Felicity let out a laugh. “Ha! Do you know how much info you get by putting in the word wolfsbane and werewolf together? I got a lot of info now that I know what to look for. The thing on Oliver’s arrowheads is the essence of a plant called aconitum, or the queen of poisons. Aconitum better known as monkshood or wolfsbane. It is poisonous to humans, but more so to werewolves, especially when ingested or injected.”

“Poisonous arrowheads. Nice,” Diggle deadpanned.

They both looked through the glass walls over at Oliver’s office. He was in conversation with the woman named Isis Lesedi. She was a tall woman with beautiful black skin and long platinum blonde hair. She was wearing some kind of ethnic robe and she and Oliver held each other’s forearms in greeting before they went to Oliver’s office.

“Do you have anything on her?” Diggle asked.

“I’ve looked,” Felicity said, glancing at her computer. “And there isn’t much. Isis Lesedi works as a museum curator at Maiden City. Her husband’s a real estate agent named, Harold Kitsch and apparently she did not take his name. Didn’t even hyphenate. She has three kids. And as we both have now discovered, she is some kind of werewolf clean-upper. Wow.”

After Oliver started using his wolfsbane-laced arrowheads, it was easy to take down those werewolves. Diggle saw them clearly, all fangs and muscle and the bright yellow eyes of a predator. They locked up all seven werewolves inside a crate and it seemed like the arrowheads had weakened them enough to keep them locked up. Oliver then took a stunned Diggle back to the Arrowcave before taking a bottle of what looked like ashes with him. He went back to wait for Isis Lesedi and her cleanup crew, who came all the way from Maiden City which was about four hours from Starling.

Isis came back the next day to talk about what happened and now here they were.

Diggle watched as Isis and Oliver started looking their way, Isis giving them curious looks. Diggle didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t watching. Through the glass, Oliver motioned for them to come in.

Diggle straightened his suit.

Felicity let out a squeak and stood up, smoothing down her skirt. “Oh my god, she’s probably going to kill us and feed us to those werewolves. I usually kind of abhor violence, despite all our nightly hunts, but do you have your gun on you?”

Diggle placed a calming hand on her arm. “It’s fine, Felicity. I don’t think Oliver would let something like that happen.”

They walked inside. Diggle could practically hear Felicity’s jangled nerves.

“Y-yes, Mr. Queen?” she asked.

Oliver smiled, standing up to meet them. He turned to Felicity with a reassuring smile and led her to a seat right across from Isis while Diggle opted to remain standing.

“Isis, may I introduce Felicity Smoak and John Diggle,” he said. Felicity stammered out a greeting and Diggle nodded to her. “Felicity, Diggle, the lovely Isis Lesedi is a friend of mine. We go way back. We were introduced to one another sometime during my…” He paused, looking only a bit uncomfortable. “…my five year absence.”

Felicity straightened. “As in the five years you were on the island? You didn’t tell us you have werewolves on the island!” She paused, seeing Isis raise a delicate eyebrow at her. “Werewolves are supposed to be secret, aren’t they? Like in movies. And if you’re the cleanup– Oh my god! You’re like a werewolf secret keeper or something, aren’t you? No wait! You’re like, a total Amazona! Oh my god, Oliver! Did you hunt werewolves with her on that island?”

Isis laughed, loud and clear while Oliver looked at Felicity with a smile.

Diggle looked contemplative. “As crazy as that sounds, I might actually buy that after what I’ve seen.”

“Ms. Smoak definitely ticked off a few boxes, Oliver,” Isis said. Her voice was rich and a bit throaty on pronunciation. “Your little team is quite impressive but I hope you still understand my need to be cautious.” Her eyes turned sharp.

That made Felicity and Diggle looked to Oliver worriedly. Oliver simply nodded.

“I will keep them up to speed, Isis.”

“You better, darling,” she said, standing up and gathering her robe. “I will leave Starling City alone, as always, and please accept my apology for this oversight.”

“Apology accepted, although I am quite certain it is nothing you need to apologize for, Isis” Oliver said.

Isis frowned. “We will do a sweep of the area just in case. I will contact you if we have more news.”

The two of them grasped each other’s forearms in parting before Isis exited the room.

There was silence. Oliver looked uncomfortable, as if actually wondering how to start. Diggle looked deep in thought, brows furrowed.

“So…” Felicity smacked her lips. “Anyone in the mood for pizza?”

* * *

If Derek thought last night was chaotic, he was wrong. The morning was shaping up to be a total disaster.

Last night after Lydia woke up, she and Stiles were a hurricane of activity. It wasn’t surprising because even Derek felt like he was punched hard in the gut at the very thought.

Someone wanted to create an earthquake strong enough to destroy Beacon Hills.

It was too preposterous. It couldn’t be possible. But this brand of crazy was something he was used to. So Derek sucked it up and tried to make sense of it.

The first thing they all agreed on was to find a way to get the book back to the owner. Stiles and Lydia were systematically taking pictures of the pages and every little corner of the journal.

“Everything looks half-done,” Lydia was saying. “There’s a chance whoever is doing this isn’t finished with the device yet. We have the element of surprise.”

“And I can put in a locator spell,” Stiles added. “That way we can kick this to the curb before it even happens.”

When Allison arrived home, things got even crazier. She had gotten enough sleep on the road and was eager to help immediately.

“This is one homecoming present,” she said, already firing up the laptops in the library once Derek caught her up to speed on everything that happened.

Derek went back to the forest, scoping out the exact spot Stiles and that figure had an altercation. He kept his steps light and silent and tucked the notebook under a few leaves and beneath the shred of cloth Stiles got. It looked believable enough to seem like no one found it. Derek could feel the slight tingle of the locator spell Stiles put on it. Hopefully it would be enough.

By the time Derek got back, the Sheriff had dropped by and was spitting mad at what happened to his son. After finding out what happened, he knew there was nothing they could have done, and Stiles’ muttered comments about being a failure at nonverbal spellcasting to defend himself served to stop more lecturing from the man.

The Sheriff knew something was up but they didn’t tell him anything yet. Things were still too abstract and the police were already working on a case of their own.

When Danny and Jackson arrived at around midnight, the library was already a mess of papers, maps, and pictures. The two werewolves immediately smelled the tension in the air but Derek ordered them to bed. All of them, despite Stiles’ and Lydia’s protests. They needed their strength tomorrow.

And now morning came and with it the arrival of the rest of the pack, Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica.

“What the hell is going on?” Erica asked, wide-eyed.

“Hell if we know,” Danny said. “We got in last night and these four were a mess.”

Isaac sniffed the air, tensed and problematic. “I guess no summer vacation this time. I should have known.”

“Stiles, what the hell happened to your face, dude?” Scott asked, stomping straight to Stiles. He held his friend’s face, wincing at the bruises.

They shared a tight embrace. “I’m good, bud. Everyone’s fine. Just me. And trust me, this is worse than it looks.”

“You got stabbed in the shoulder, Stiles,” Derek deadpanned.

Scott frowned, practically ripping his best friend’s shirt off to look at the wound. He leveled a glared at him. “Story. Now.”

Stiles winced. Derek could smell the scent of his spark and anxiety.

“We’re probably gonna need breakfast first,” Stiles said.

* * *

The three of them were settled around the Queen mansion’s living room, Oliver on an armchair, Felicity on the couch with her feet up and tablet on her knees, and Diggle taking up a loveseat. There were three boxes of pizza on the coffee table, buckets of fish and chips, and soda. Oliver watched as Diggle shoved a rather large slice of pizza in his mouth while Felicity nibbled on the edge of hers. She was glancing at him every so often as the fingers of one hand flew across her tablet.

Oliver fidgeted in his seat. The three of them had grown closer through the past years. Oliver had revealed more of himself to them, and had been slowly but surely divulging some of his none-too pleasant experiences on the island. But there was one little chapter he had completely elected not to tell them, if only because he knew it was a bit too unreal to believe.

Felicity wiped her hands on a napkin and then set her tablet aside. She looked at Oliver.

“So… erm, story time?” she asked.

Oliver released a breath, wondering where to start. “You both know more about my time on the island than anybody else. But I wasn’t planning on telling you both about this because…” He shrugged. “I figured it was hard to take seriously.”

“That’s an understatement.” Diggle let out a bark of laughter, rubbing his face.

Oliver knew what it must look like to him. Diggle was a military man. He took everything at face value and now that he’s seen those werewolves for real, he won’t ever deny it, but the idea of the supernatural, something more complex than the already complicated concept of humanity, was definitely rubbing him the wrong way.

“First of all, we should probably get it out of the way,” Oliver said. “Werewolves are real.”

Felicity let out a rather high-pitched giggle of disbelief while Diggle sighed.

“This just turned into some supernatural television show, let me tell you that,” Felicity said, going back to her tablet. She typed as she talked. “What else is real? Vampires? Witches? The boogie monster? Sasquatch? Kaijus?”

Oliver’s brow furrowed. “Er, I met a centaur once with Isis, and a mermaid back on the island. I was also told by a reliable source that sasquatch is real.”

“A mermaid, god,” Diggle’s eyes were wide as he chugged down his soda. “And sasquatch.”

“I will need to compile a list of this,” Felicity mumbled to herself. “And like, update my search stats to include keywords like werewolves and magic and things that go bump in the night.”

“All these storybook tales are unfortunately real and not all of them are good guys,” Oliver said. “I met the Lesedi family through Anatoli Knyazev, the leader of the Bratva.” He rubbed the Bratva star tattoo on his chest unconsciously.

“I still find it weird you run with the Russian mafia.” Felicity tilted her head in thought. She and Diggle had the pleasure of meeting Anatoli once during a social visit to Moscow. Oliver had been insistent on having them both meet him so that even though they were civilians, they were on the Bratva’s radar as allies and kept safe.

“Is Anatoli a werewolf?” Diggle suddenly asked.

Felicity jerked. “Oh my god! But he was charming when we met him in Moscow! Not that I meant werewolves can’t be charming but seeing as what we’ve seen so far are the evil variety, my opinion stands.”

“No. Anatoli and the entire Bratva is composed of ordinary humans,” Oliver said. “When I joined Anatoli for a few months during my time as a captain of the Bratva, a centaur with a Fire spell wielding a burning axe was just one of the many things I saved Anatoli’s life from. He taught me all he knew about the supernatural because while Anatoli keeps away from them, he still has to know them in order to protect his businesses. When he’s way over his head, he calls on the help of the Hunters.”

“Hunters, with a capital H. I heard that.” Felicity was typing all of this. Oliver wasn’t sure why or what for.

Oliver nodded. “Hunters is a general term. Some of them hunt specific beings while some, like the Lesedi family, train against being able to fight in general. Most Hunters follow a code, to protect and defend and hunt only those who pose a threat. Some aren’t as nice.”

“Let me guess,” Diggle said. “You’ve encountered some of these not-nice Hunters.”

Oliver nodded. “Yes, especially because there are nice non-humans. The sasquatch is apparently very nice to children and the mermaid I met didn’t try to drown me.”

Felicity made a gurgling sound of disbelief, eyes wide. “Hearing and seeing you, straight-as-an-arrow – and pun totally not intended, by the way – Oliver Queen talking about bedtime monsters is just mind-boggling to me.”

“You and me both.” Diggle chuckled. “So why haven’t we seen most of these voodoo around the city? And how did you know this Isis Lesedi? You two seemed like old friends.”

“The Lesedi family is a prominent Hunter family this side of the country,” Oliver explained. “Isis has extended family in Starling so their protection extends here. She has her own patrols and scouts around town. Anatoli got me in contact with Isis years ago and we corresponded regularly but I only met her formally when I got back from the island. I patrol the city for her occasionally but I never get involved since I’m not a Hunter.”

Felicity pursed her lips in thought. “So what happened with those werewolves? If they weren’t supposed to get in the city?”

“This has been going on for a while actually,” Oliver said. “More creatures have been sighted after the quake, and it’s only because Isis has enough influence that these things are kept hidden from the general public. This one just happened to slip through their watch. We’re lucky Roy found out about the crates.”

“What were in those anyway?” Diggle asked.

“Stolen weapons, Oliver said. “Have you heard of the Manders massacre at Looseleaf County two months ago?” When Diggle and Felicity nodded, he said, “They’re a Hunter family that specialized in making weapons. The cause of death was never reported in the media because Isis orchestrated a blackout.” He frowned. “Now she’s found the culprits.”

Felicity almost dropped her tablet and Diggle was wide-eyed with shock.

Felicity’s face was scrunched in horror, voice rising in pitch. “Those werewolves… what, ate them? Bit them? Mauled them to death?”

Oliver nodded. “Those werewolves have a pack south of here. Isis has been suspecting them of questionable activity. Isis and her team are on their way right now to question and probably arrest them.”

“A werewolf pack,” Felicity mumbled to herself. “I really need to get started searching on this.”

Oliver shrugged. “If you want, I can tell you some of the things I’ve seen but I don’t expect we’ll be encountering anymore of them anyway. They’re not ours to deal with.”

“I hope so and I agree,” Diggle said. “The city’s criminals are already batshit crazy enough as it is.” He tossed a chip in his mouth. “But I won’t mind a story.”

“I am so going to look more into this but yeah.” Felicity tossed her tablet on the couch and grabbed another slice of pizza. “I wanna hear the one about the mermaid. Please tell me they look like the ones on Harry Potter! Those ones were killer scary!”

“I prefer the ones on Pirates of the Caribbean,” Diggle said, “The pretty ones that could kick your ass and fling you to the water.”

“And we’ve both caught you up on relevant pop culture, Oliver,” Felicity said with a teasing grin. “So you can’t tell us you don’t know what we’re talking about.”

Oliver couldn’t help sighing in relief. Time and again he was still surprised at the friendship Diggle and Felicity offered him, the kind were they demanded nothing from him except his honesty, but also being understanding when Oliver couldn’t always give them that.

Oliver counted himself unworthy and ridiculously lucky.

“So, which is it?” Felicity asked, eyes bright under her glasses. “Pretty and badass mermaid or scary and badass mermaid?”

Oliver laughed. “Pay the woman, Dig.”

Felicity did a fist pump in the air while Diggle groaned.

* * *

Scott could feel the Pack bond tingle, as if repairing and reasserting itself now that everyone was together. Everyone was more level-headed after a meal and soon enough they’re back at the library, spread out and looking to Stiles, Lydia, Allison, and Derek, who were having some sort of communication with their eyebrows. It was kinda scary how everyone inherited that talent from Derek.

“What’s wrong, guys?” Scott finally asked, face scrunching up and listening hard. “Stiles, your heartbeat’s wonkier than normal.”

“Ok,” Stiles said, sighing and bringing the eyebrow-laden conversation to an end. “We’ve been looking things up all night and I have half a mind to think this is some ridiculous crap. But this is gonna be big.”

“In fact, it’s probably the biggest thing we’ve faced so far,” Allison scoffed.

Stiles spread everything out on the table. “We have some way out idea about what that person was up to last night, the one that attacked me. And it is not pretty.”

It took an hour of explaining everything from Stiles taking a walk to how he encountered some kind of ninja to finding the notebook and putting a spell on it and putting it back in the hopes it triggers the locator spell. It would have taken half the time if Stiles wasn’t so jumpy. His best friend was already twenty-two and on a good day he knew how to control his natural skittishness, but Scott could smell his spark going haywire inside him. Derek had to stand close so that Stiles’ spark could ground itself to the stability of Derek’s wolf.

That’s when Stiles told them the contents of the notebook and everything went to shit.

“That’s impossible!” Erica shouted.

“That is one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever heard!” Jackson agreed.

“And what is up with our lives that we can say it is not the most absurd thing we have to face,” Boyd muttered.

Scott nodded. That siren they fought months ago who preferred charming older men, like much, much older men, was pretty bizarre.

Danny and Isaac were immediately on the computers, firing up their not-so-legal databases. Isaac had gotten interested in computers the way Danny was. He didn’t want to go to MIT though despite his chances of getting accepted because he didn’t want to be too far away from Derek. Now he was their second-best at fiddling with computers. In fact, all of the UCLA werewolves swore never to tell Derek how much Isaac’s computer skills have… er… helped them during school work and exams.

Stiles tapped Danny and Isaac on the shoulders. “We’re not as good as you two so you’ll need to work your hacking mojo to get more information on the Starling earthquake.”

“On it,” Isaac said.

Scott sat there, thinking hard.

Someone wanted to replicate the earthquake that hit Starling City two years ago. Someone wanted to destroy Beacon Hills the same way it leveled the Glades and killed hundreds of lives.

“But why does someone want to destroy Beacon Hills?” Scott asked.

“That’s the thing,” Lydia said, pursing her lips. “Back in Starling City, some psycho named Malcolm Merlyn did it because his wife was mugged in the Glades. There’s little to almost no possible scenario on why someone would want to do this here in Beacon Hills of all places. I mean, not that one I can think of at the moment.”

“We haven’t been getting any serial killers lately, have we?” Scott asked, sullenly.

Erica scoffed. “As far as revenge plots go, a manufactured earthquake gets props for originality and a total fuck you for the damage it’ll cost.”

“Now we’re just guessing but the blueprints seemed to show that the device isn’t done. Not yet anyway,” Stiles said. “Best case scenario is that we find the device before it’s even finished. Worst case scenario is Beacon Hills ends up like Starling City.”

“What about your locator spell, Stiles?” Erica asked. “Couldn’t we just find whoever it is and then stop them before this all goes to shit?”

“The locator spell hasn’t been triggered yet,” Stiles said. “Meaning the book is still where Derek left it. Once it’s moved, the spell starts.”

“And there are too many variables we can’t leave to chance,” Derek said. “There could be an entire team working on this. It could be at a lab. It might not even be at Beacon Hills. The device might not even be wherever the notebook’s owner is.” He growled under his breath in frustration.

“And none of us can exactly sniff out some sort of earthquake device,” Jackson said.

Scott had a thought, snapping his fingers. “Maybe you can use your banshee powers, Lydia? After all, you can sense death so if it’s coming, not that we want it to come of course, maybe we can get a clue?”

Lydia thought about it, nodding slowly. “Maybe. I’ll be more cautious. But it’s probably a last resort. It might be too late before I get a sense of impending doom.”

“That’s not a half bad idea though,” Stiles said, grinning at him proudly. Scott grinned back.

Boyd cleared his throat. “I know I’m not the only one thinking this, but the whole idea of this is too extensive. All we know is someone’s building a device. We don’t know who or where or why. That’s not a lot to go on.”

“Our biggest concern is definitely to find a way to narrow down this mess,” Derek said. “We’ve never faced something like this before. Because this time, we’re not going up against the supernatural and this is all by the human hand.” He looked around at his pack. “But we’ll find a way to figure this out, ok?”

There was a tense silence.

“We are so majorly fucked,” Scott mumbled.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Felicity Smoak, I know her,” Danny said, looking around at everyone. “She’s an MIT graduate. We have the same academic advisor who always talks about her.”
> 
> “Oh yeah,” Jackson spoke up. “She’s the one with the… what was it? The sexy, die-hard codes?”
> 
> “Yes!” Danny said, pleased that his best friend remembered.
> 
> “So?” Allison asked, confused. “You’re hot for her coding skills. What does that mean?”
> 
> “She’s one of the best IT experts to ever come from MIT, can code like a goddamn goddess, and graduated with honors,” Danny said. “And she lives in Starling City. Think about it!”
> 
> \---
> 
> **MESSAGE:**   
> _Felicity Smoak. Need help. Urgent._   
> _Markov device. In progress._
> 
> Oliver felt his heart stutter to a halt as he read the words.
> 
> Felicity gasped. Diggle cursed. They turned to Oliver, as shocked as he felt.
> 
> “Contact them,” Oliver growled out. “I want to know if this is true. If this is some sick joke, someone will get an arrow through them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some have asked me about making Roy and Jackson one person. I thought about it and realized it would be difficult inserting a believable subplot and not making it sound forced (I had an idea actually, but it sounded so hokey. Lol). So I opted to just keep the two apart. I do declare now though that these two would eventually meet in a future chap. Imagine how fun that would be.

Lydia frowned. Everyone at the Hale House was a thrum of activity right now working on their new case. She immediately divided everyone into three groups to help them gather as much information as they could. Danny, Isaac, and Jackson worked on the online stuff, looking through anything and everything they possibly could. Scott, Derek, Boyd and Allison worked on all the police files the first group printed out. Lydia roped Stiles, and Erica with her to look through the printed out pictures of the notebook pages.

After a few hours, they requested a break and Derek had everyone grab something to eat and then reconvene to hash out everything they knew so far. They moved to the dining room, lugging laptops, tablets, and papers with them as they ate takeout.

“Ok, we start off with the notebook,” Lydia said, taking charge. She knew she was the most organized in her Pack and she was determined to do this right. “Contents.”

Stiles was typing on his laptop and looking between the screen and the tablet beside him. Derek had to keep nudging him to take bites of food.

“We have bad news and another bad news and… some kind-of-good news, which is still kind of bad.” Stiles ignored everyone’s groans. “Ok, so Lyds, Erica, and I managed to get through the contents of the notebook. Not that hard considering the notebook wasn’t filled anyway. It’s hard to understand because frankly none of us have any idea about the device, but we do confirm that this is the Markov device. The name and stuff written within the pages are clues enough. With all that said, that is not part of the bad news.”

Erica started. “Bad news number one, there is no sign of an address, no name, nothing personal, nothing that could give us a sign of who owned the notebook or who could be planning this or why.”

“Bad news number two,” Stiles picked up. “We definitely know that Beacon Hills is being targeted because it’s written on the notebook.” He showed them the tablet and zoomed in, showing that someone did scribble in the words on the notebook. “Beacon Hills is still a bit vague because there’s the Preserve and the entire forest to think about.”

“There are enough of us to patrol the Preserve though,” Derek said. “Not just the wolves, but with the hunters and the police, that could help.”

“It would still be more helpful if we could narrow it down though instead of have everyone running around,” Stiles said, chewing his food.

“And the last thing is that based on the drawings written down, the device is still not ready and this is still being planned,” Lydia said. “That’s not quite good news but it’s not completely bad either. It gives us a chance.”

“How do you say that?” Scott asked.

“There are some formulas and equations written on the notebook,” Lydia said. “Stiles and I picked up some, like Boltzmann’s entropy formula, Maxwell’s equations on electricity and magnetism, and even Schrödinger’s equation, and if you’re not convinced, there’s a Richter scale equation for earthquakes. Thing is, they look half-done, like someone was still calculating them. There are some we couldn’t figure out, but we’re working on it.”

“The notebook is detailed on some parts of the device though,” Erica said. He turned to Danny and Isaac. “Is it possible to make some kind of like 3D version of it so we can see it?”

Isaac nodded. “Yep. We can work on digitizing it later on one of the computers.”

“And speaking of computers,” Danny said. “At our end, obviously we tried getting into Unidac’s site first, but their database is now defunct. So that was a dead-end. However, the FBI has their own copy of it which we handed off to Derek and co. Since I already know the way though their system, it was easy enough to get their files.”

“We also looked through everything from the Starling City Police Department,” Jackson added.

“Plus Queen Consolidated,” Isaac said. “But their system is pretty topnotch and it’s our first time taking a crack at it so it’s gonna take a while. They probably have their own files on Unidac but we’ll have to wait until we get in.”

Derek asked, “How long?”

Isaac tapped his chin. “A few hours, six at the most.”

Derek nodded. “Ok, then. It looks like we have the most news.”

Allison tapped on the notepad where she had been taking notes. “We put together everything we got from the databases Danny, Isaac, and Jackson pulled up.”

“It’s not pretty,” Scott said, wincing. “Two years ago, there were two Markov devices set up in Starling City.”

“What?” Stiles shot up, almost spitting out his meal. “So what you’re saying is there may or may not be more than one device?”

“We’re not saying that,” Allison said. “Unless something in the notebook says so?”

“We’ll look into it,” Stiles said, noting it down. “Damn.”

“But there is good news,” Boyd said. “One of the devices destroyed the east sector of the Glades and the other, for some reason, didn’t detonate. Apparently, someone deactivated the device.”

“Fuck, that’s great!” Erica said. “Then we find out who deactivated it. Do we have a name?”

Derek’s jaw tightened. “Not exactly. We do have the name of the police officer who reported the location of the deactivated device, a Sergeant Quentin Lance. According to him, someone else deactivated it.”

“See if you can dig up anything on him,” Lydia said to Danny. “He’s the last to see the device. Maybe we could–”

“Aww. Damn.” Stiles suddenly gasped out, folding into himself. One of the tattoos on his chest lit up under his shirt.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” Derek asked, grasping his shoulder.

“Fuck! Sorry.” Stiles rubbed his chest and the light receded. He looked grim. “Someone put out my locator spell.” He kept rubbing his chest. Derek took over with a growl, palming at his mate and leeching out the pain.

“What?” Everyone gaped.

“Is that the smell?” Scott asked, looking a bit worried. “Your spark smells a bit burnt.”

Lydia snapped her fingers. “How could someone put out your spell? I know your spell. That one was foolproof.”

Stiles frowned. “Either someone discovered it and did a counter spell, which is near impossible without activating the spell in the first place, something I would have felt. Or something happened to the book.”

Derek was immediately making his way out the door, wolfing out before he even threw open the back door. Isaac stood up, following after. After what happened to Stiles, they all knew better than to go out alone.

Barely two minutes passed and Stiles got a text.

_**From:** Derek H._   
_**Message:** Someone burned it_

* * *

Felicity and her boys were out on the field today working a case. And it wasn’t just them. They managed to rope in their usual support team, Sergeant Quentin Lance, Laurel Lance, and Roy Harper.

Not that any of them know that the other people were helping the Arrow. Or who the Arrow was.

Their case today involved Giselle Orion, heiress to a multi-million-dollar fortune. She was in her early-forties, without immediate family, no parents, siblings, husband or children, and was planning to donate half of her fortune to charity. They found out someone had placed a hit on her. The suspects so far were an ex-lover, the president of her company, and an aunt. One of them was planning to either kill her or kidnap her at the ceremony.

Ms. Orion didn’t believe the warnings of the police and forbade their presence at her event so they only had Detective Lance with them at the guise of being present for his daughter Laurel. Laurel was there as Ms. Orion’s lawyer. She was also well aware of her client’s life being in danger and was armed under her dress just in case. Roy managed to haggle a job as a waiter that night and was working as the eyes and ears for the team.

Ms. Orion was good friends with Oliver’s mother, Moira, so Oliver and Thea were invited as guests. The Queens were trying hard to repair their family’s reputation so this was also a bit of an image boost for them, in Felicity’s opinion.

Felicity jerked in surprise at a warm palm on her elbow. She looked up at Oliver, heart tripping a little.

“You ok?” he asked, voice low.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” Felicity said. She cleared her throat. “Um, I’m good at my end.”

“Ok. Try not to get too close to the guy,” Oliver said, rubbing her arm comfortingly. “Keep safe. Ears on.” He motioned to the communicator fashioned into her earrings.

“Will do, er, chief,” Felicity said, laughing off her nerves. “You too.” She couldn’t resist patting the lapels of his suit where a button comm was placed.

Oliver gave her a parting smile and walked off. Felicity sighed, tugging a little at her curled hair.

She had a relatively easy job at her end. She was monitoring Ms. Orion’s ex-lover, the really handsome but secretly devious Jeffrey Montana, who was currently making conversation with the other big-wigs at the party.

She spied Diggle at the other end, but didn’t motion to him. His job was keeping an eye on Ms. Orion’s company president. Felicity passed by Roy, who was carrying a tray of drinks, one hand in his pocket and probably clutching his phone. He was following the aunt.

Felicity felt a buzz in her purse and took out her phone.

_**From:** Sgt. Q. Lance_   
_**Message:** Nothing so far. Your ‘friend’ watching the area?_

Felicity and Sergeant Lance had one another on their speed-dial ever since the quake. Sergeant Lance was suspended just hours before the quake but Oliver managed to pull some strings, of what very few strings his family name had left, to help him get back his job. The past two years, Felicity served as the middlewoman in helping them solve cases together. Sgt. Lance was still wary of the Arrow and his intentions but he had him on a longer leash now and Oliver made sure the sergeant wasn’t implicated during missions.

_**From:** F. Smoak_   
_**Message:** Yes sir. Nothing on our end too._

_**From:** Sgt. Q. Lance_   
_**Message:** Keep in touch._

Someone brushed past her and Felicity squeaked out an apology.

“Oh. My bad,” Felicity said, flushing. She get flustered around rich people, except for Oliver of course.

“Sorry. Oh, Felicity, right?” Laurel smiled politely at her. “Oliver’s assistant?”

“Oh, um, y-yes?” she said.

God, she hated that. She was not Oliver’s assistant. She was a graduate of MIT with honors for god’s sakes.

Laurel nodded and walked off. As Oliver’s ex-girlfriend, Laurel was an in-and-out presence in Oliver’s life. She was decidedly lukewarm towards the Arrow after the death of, Tommy Merlyn, and she went a bit hot and cold towards Oliver.

“Ah,” Felicity muttered as she watched Laurel approach Oliver, tugging on his arm and laughing when she caught him by surprise. “Apparently, tonight is a hot night.”

They all knew Laurel took Tommy’s death hard and she seemed to vacillate between liking Oliver just fine as a friend, a bit more than a friend, or being the last memory of Tommy she had and being snappish towards him like she hated his existence.

The two of them talked, touching and laughing once in a while.

_**From:** J. Diggle_   
_**Message:** Anything interesting?_

Felicity shook her head.

_**From:** F. Smoak_   
_**Message:** Nothing much._

_**From:** J. Diggle_   
_**Message:** Then why are you watching them?_

Felicity glared at her phone, knowing Diggle could see it from wherever he was. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of replying to that… that… accusation.

She tucked her phone back in her purse and walked off among the crowd, keeping her eyes and ears peeled. She decided to grab a drink, walking over to the bar where Roy was.

“A drink, miss?” Roy asked, smiling.

Hm. He really looked like an Abercrombie model, just like what Thea kept saying.

“Yes, please,” she said.

As she sipped her drink, someone stepped up beside her.

“Evening.”

She was glad she didn’t jerk in shock. She turned.

Oh. The guy. Jeffrey Montana.

“G-good evening, sir.”

“Not sir,” the man chuckled. “Jeffrey. Jeffrey Montana.” He offered a hand.

“Um…” Felicity scrambled for something. “M-Megan.”

“Megan…?” Jeremy prompted, teeth showing as he grinned widely.

“Well, that’s my secret to tell,” Felicity said. She was on the verge of mentally smacking herself for such a line when Jeffrey chuckled. He took her hand and kissed the knuckles.

“I do love figuring out secrets, Miss Megan,” Jeffrey said.

“A-ah, well…” Felicity coughed. “That is an interesting, erm, hobby.”

Ok. Wow. Jeffrey Montana was quite attractive and charming, for an evil guy who wanted to kill his ex-girlfriend.

“I-I should go,” Felicity said. “Nice meeting you.”

Jeffrey touched her arm, not firm just a light flirty touch. “I don’t want to seem too forward but I was just hoping to get to know you better, Megan. I think you are–”

Then that was when the first shots were fired, and Felicity’s phone was buzzing and Oliver and Diggle were talking through her earring comm.

She saw Ms. Orion getting dragged off by her aunt and Roy was running after them and she immediately kicked off her high heels.

“Sorry, Jeff. Gotta go.” She grinned and ran after them, immediately taking out her phone for Sgt. Lance while also talking to Oliver and Diggle through her comm.

Time to get to work.

* * *

Isaac concentrated on his laptop, feeling a bit antsy at the uneasy air of his pack but knowing there was nothing he could do about it. Stiles was irritable after what happened and his locator spell didn’t work. Lydia and Derek were fuming mad at the burned notebook. They didn’t try to retrieve it, as per Stiles’ instructions since there could be a rebound locator spell on the ashes.

Scott looked worried. “Do you think they know that we know? Which is why they burnt it?”

“Probably,” Allison said. “Or maybe they did it as a precaution, just in case.”

“Whatever it is, we need to hurry up,” Erica said, huffing. “Any day we waste is another day that crazycakes gets the device done.”

“Do we have something, anything?” Stiles asked, placing his hands on Isaac’s shoulders. He had taken over the search while Danny scoured other parts of the Net.

“I’m trying,” Isaac bit his lip. “I did look up that Sergeant Quentin Lance like you guys wanted. I looked at the news surrounding him around the year of the quake. Nothing impressive. Before the mess, he was obsessed with looking for that famous vigilante, the Hood.”

“The Hood?” Jackson asked. “What is that?”

“He’s not a vigilante now,” Stiles said, the same time Scott said, “He’s called the Arrow now.”

The best friends looked at each other, grinning.

“My Dad was interested in the Hood’s cases for a while,” Stiles said. “I mean, he’s a cop too so it was kind of interesting for him that some vigilante guy was taking on the city and making fools of the police.”

“He’s kind of cool now,” Scott said. “The media started calling him the Arrow after the quake and he’s considered a hero.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thing you two would find interesting,” Derek muttered, exasperated but amused.

“Did this Lance guy ever caught the Arrow?” Stiles asked, hands on Isaac’s shoulders.

“From what I’ve read, there were some close calls but nothing definite,” Isaac said, squinting at the computer screen. “He suspected someone of being the Arrow, but there aren’t any names.”

“We’re not looking for this Arrow!” Lydia snapped, making Isaac jump. “Do you have anything useful?”

Isaac thought of being hurt. He was trying his best here. Jackson grabbed Lydia by the waist, calming her. She let out a breath.

“I looked through his report,” Isaac said. “Sgt. Lance reported the location of the deactivated Markov device. According to his report, he happened to come across it but it was already turned off. That’s all he ever said on the matter.”

“That’s a bit half-assed,” Boyd scoffed.

“Is he capable of deactivating it?” Danny asked, wheeling his desk chair closer. “I mean, intellectually capable?”

“Er, I don’t think so,” Isaac said, typing. “I looked through his records. He isn’t dumb but he’s not smart either in that respect.”

“Maybe he hit the device really, really hard?” Erica suggested.

“I hardly doubt a police officer like him would be that stupid to hit the device,” Boyd said gently.

“If he was involved, he probably had someone help him,” Isaac said. “If not, maybe he knew who did it. If he was really just a passerby, then we have no more leads.”

“Hey, Isaac, what are these?” Stiles asked, pointing at the windows open on the screen.

“City maps, inventory, phone records, bills,” Isaac said, scrolling through the names. “I just thought we could look through these, maybe find out who were the people who lived in the general area or who stayed. Maybe we can find someone not supposed to be there.”

“What’s that?” Danny suddenly asked, pointing.

“What’s what?”

“That one.”

“Um, this one?” Isaac asked, bringing up the window and scrolling through the list of names. “Call history around the time of the quake. It’s not that accurate, I think. The quake messed up the signal so only a few calls patched through and were record–”

Danny suddenly stood up, making his chair topple back. “Go back! Go back!”

Danny sounded so frantic, Isaac panicked a little. “What? What? What?”

Danny placed a hand over his to stop him. He then proceeded to stare at the screen. “HOLY SHIT!”

“Danny, what’s wrong?” Derek asked, growling a little. Danny smelled a mix of excited and disbelief, his heart beating really fast. Everyone crowded around the computer.

“What is it? What is it?” Isaac asked, trying to read whatever it was Danny was gawking at on his screen. “Did you find anything?”

Danny was vibrating with energy and his usually dimpled smile was larger than usual. He jabbed a finger on the screen. “That one! There!”

“Which one?” Stiles whined.

Isaac read the name Danny was pointing out. “Felicity Smoak?”

“That one! Her!” Danny said, looking at everyone with a bright smile.

“Isn’t she the one you’re always talking about?” Jackson asked, thinking hard.

“Yes!” Danny said, grinning widely at him.

“Danny, start making sense! Now! This century!” Lydia said, glaring at him.

Danny was obviously trying to reign in his excitement and that made Isaac sit up in interest. Danny was the calmest of their pack and to see him like this meant something important was happening.

“Felicity Smoak, I know her,” Danny said, looking around at everyone. “She’s an MIT graduate. We have the same academic advisor who always talks about her.”

“Oh yeah,” Jackson spoke up. “She’s the one with the… what was it? The sexy, die-hard codes?”

“Yes!” Danny said, pleased that his best friend remembered.

“So?” Allison asked, confused. “You’re hot for her coding skills. What does that mean?”

“She’s one of the best IT experts to ever come from MIT, can code like a goddamn goddess, and graduated with honors,” Danny said. “And she lives in Starling City. Think about it!”

Isaac picked it up instantly. He turned to his computer, bringing up the phone records. “A call was recorded between her and Sgt. Lance minutes before the quake hit. They only recorded a minute and fifteen-second-phone call before it cited a record lost. Probably from the earthquake. I am looking for the more recent call history and…” He typed fast. “Ms. Smoak and Sgt. Lance have been in contact often in the past two years.”

Everyone was immediately on board too.

“Motherfu…” Scott said, awed. “Does that mean we might have…”

Stiles squealed, hugging Isaac so hard. Isaac beamed when Derek ruffled his hair with a proud grin. Everybody else whooped in delight.

Danny grinned, leaning over to smack a kiss against Isaac’s temple. “Thanks to Isaac, we have the person who most likely deactivated the device.”

* * *

Felicity had her heels in one hand and her dress gathered up in the other as she traipsed down the stairs into the heart of the Arrowcave. Oliver and Diggle followed after at a more leisurely pace.

“At least no one’s bleeding,” Felicity said, cheerfully. “This is a good mission. I really prefer it when no one’s injured.”

Oliver chuckled. He felt tired but he was pleased they were all safe. He shrugged off his jacket and placed his bow back on the case as Diggle and Felicity started their usual post-mission banter about the most random thing.

“I say you enjoyed this mission,” Diggle said to Felicity in a teasing tone. “Jeffrey Montana was quite interested in you, Ms. Megan.”

Oliver froze. Who? What?

Felicity was waving that off. “Psh. That was just some flirty-flirt. I was pretty creeped out when he was a suspect but now he’s not anymore, I think he’s not a half bad guy.”

“You willing to take him up on his offer?” Diggle asked, wiping his face and arms on a towel.

“What offer?” Oliver piped up, turning to them.

Felicity had a pleased flush on her face and it made Oliver’s stomach turn. Diggle let out a laugh.

“Montana asked her out,” he explained.

“Are you…” Oliver waved a hand. “Considering it?”

Oliver felt Diggle’s heavy look but he watched Felicity, who shrugged a shoulder.

“Nah,” Felicity said, crashing down on her computer chair. “My calendar’s all booked with dates with my two best guys.” She motioned to him and Diggle with a laugh. “Well, you two and Starling City’s finest baddies. Keeps my nights full.”

Diggle chuckled. “Same.”

It hit Oliver, as it always did, about how much John and Felicity sacrificed for him. The three of them didn’t really have much in the way of a social life, except with one another, thanks to their dual life. And if it wasn’t dealing with crime, they all still had work to do for Queen Consolidated.

Oliver had always accepted the eventuality of solitude given his decision to take the path of the hood. But when Diggle and Felicity came to walk the same path alongside him, he wasn’t lonely anymore. Other than his work at CEO and as the Arrow, he didn’t have any other aspect of his life that needed his attention and Diggle and Felicity dealt with both lives.

Now that Oliver really thought about it, Felicity and Diggle’s life revolved almost completely around him.

“If you want, you could,” Oliver said, even as a sense of worry erupted in the back of his mind. “If you wanted to go out with Jeffrey Montana, it’s fine. We can take a night off.”

There was silence.

“…You want me to go out with somebody?” Felicity asked, something unreadable in her eyes.

Oliver was about to reply when Felicity’s computer sprang to life with a small alarm.

“Hold that thought,” Felicity turned to it.

Oliver turned to Diggle, who simply shook his head.

How could that be a wrong move? Oliver just wanted Felicity to be happy with whoever she wanted to date, no matter how uncomfortable it made Oliver feel, which was unfair of him and he knew that.

Oliver leaned against the wall, deep in thought. He needed to remember to allow his friends their own lives.

“What the hell?!” Felicity’s shocked voice cut through his thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” Diggle asked, approaching her. Oliver followed.

Felicity was white as a sheet, mouth ajar, and hands frozen above the keyboards.

“Felicity?” Oliver asked, looking at the screen. “What’s wrong?”

Felicity still looked shocked. She clicked something on the computer and what they saw all shocked them.

“Someone got into my system,” she muttered, voice shaky.

> **DOMAIN:** 369.2961.10  
>  **AUTHORIZATION:** CODE // AU-5601 *CRACKED*  
>  **SOURCE CODE:** UNIDENTIFIED *CRACKED*
> 
> MESSAGE RECEIVED
> 
> **SENDER:** REGISTERED ERROR  
>  **RECEIVER:** SMOAK, FELICITY  
>  **SUBJECT:** \--- --- ---
> 
> **WARNING:  
> ** Trace interrupted.  
>  Trace unavailable.
> 
> **ACTION:** Open message? Yes / No

“How the hell did they get into my system?!” Felicity shouted, hands twitching and unsure of what to do. “HOW?!”

Oliver placed a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know much about computers, but he knew without a doubt that Felicity had some sort of defense on their computers to make sure they were untraceable. If someone got into her system, then they could have seen everything they were trying to hide.

“Can we open the message?” Oliver asked.

Felicity’s hands were shaking. “We could. But we might… it might crash.”

“Can you isolate it?” Diggle asked.

“I… I… yes. I can… I can do that,” Felicity said. She typed a string of code. “Nobody should have access to this,” she muttered as she worked. “They can’t possibly find this network unless they were looking for it specifically. This is bad. So bad.”

“Felicity, calm down,” Oliver said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s see what we’re up against first, ok? Deep breaths.”

Felicity took a deep breath, not really calmed, but she typed faster and then pressed a button on her computer. A window popped up on the screen.

> **ACTION:** Open message?  YES / No
> 
> **MESSAGE:**   
> _Felicity Smoak. Need help. Urgent._   
> _Markov device. In progress._
> 
> _Contact us:_   
> _**DOMAIN:** 432.2463.12_   
> _**AUTHORIZATION:** CODE // LS-1749_   
> _**SECURITY PASSCODE:** EARTHQUAKE_

Oliver felt his heart stutter to a halt as he read the words.

Felicity gasped. Diggle cursed. They turned to Oliver, as shocked as he felt.

“Contact them,” Oliver growled out. “I want to know if this is true. If this is some sick joke, someone will get an arrow through them.”

Felicity nodded and got to work.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Genim Stilinski, a resident of Beacon Hills, California,” Diggle said as soon as Felicity logged out. “The name’s legit.”
> 
> “And so is the address,” Oliver said. “At least we know they didn’t lie at that. But we have to be careful. We can’t be sure this isn’t some big ruse.”
> 
> “The pictures with the drawings were pretty accurate though,” Felicity said. “Why would someone want to build another Markov device? Malcolm Merlyn might be dead but I guess he might have inspired some people to do the same thing.”
> 
> Diggle motioned to the computers. “I looked it up and Beacon Hills is around one-half the size of the Glades. If that thing detonates, that town isn’t likely to survive it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the update took a while! Real life has been hectic and I have a love/hate relationship with my new job. But enough of my boring life.
> 
> Enjoy.

Felicity decided to trace the message first, despite the warning sign on her laptop that indicated someone interrupted and turned off the trace. She managed to make it back as far as California before the signal puttered off. When she tried again, the signal was gone completely. Completely irritated and fired up, Felicity checked all her online databases and also found out that someone was trying to get into Queen Consolidated’s system.

“Speaking of the Markov device, I just checked and someone is trying to get into Queen Consolidated system’s right now,” Felicity said, typing at lightning speed. “They haven’t gotten into the system yet, which is a relief and they’re being very subtle which is why the system’s security alarms haven’t been raised. It’s like whoever it is just poking around trying to find the backdoor.”

“Is it the same person who contacted you?” Oliver asked.

“Queen still has Unidac’s records of the Markov device so if it’s the same person, they might be looking for that,” Felicity said. “But I’m not sure. Queen’s system is safeguarded pretty well. I check it regularly myself. They’re gonna need some topnotch gizmos to get into it.”

“Queen’s computers are more heavily protected than ours?” Diggle asked. He immediately knew that was the wrong thing to say as Felicity glared at him.

“For your information, I designed and upgraded the system on these babies with my personal code,” Felicity said, half-rising from her seat. “You can’t even compare it to Queen’s system that has an entire IT team working on it, a team which I used to be a member of before I got delegated to secretarial duties, but something I still take time to look after.”

“Ok. Ok. Calm down,” Oliver said, waving a hand between them. He guided Felicity back to her seat. “The only thing we could do now is contact them if you think it’s safe, Felicity. You know a lot more about these things than we do.”

“We could contact them,” Felicity said, biting her nail in thought. “We have an extra computer not connected to anything else. It’s clean so in case it’s a trap to get some info, we’re safe.”

In a few minutes, Felicity had everything set up, two computers in front of her.

“They directed us to a secluded chat room,” Felicity explained. “But I’ll keep tabs on them just in case we can trace where it’s coming from.”

The three of them looked at one another. Oliver nodded.

> **DOMAIN:** 432.2463.12  
>  **AUTHORIZATION:** CODE // LS-1749  
>  **PASSCODE:** EARTHQUAKE
> 
> _CONNECTING…_   
> _CONNECTING…_   
> _CONNECTED._

* * *

It was a while before Danny’s message received a reply. By then, it was only Stiles, Derek, and Isaac at the Hale house. The rest had gone back to be with their families for a little while before they had to deal with this mess. Many of them were already in hot water for spending their first days back in town at the Hale house and not with their families.

Stiles was only there because the Sheriff had a night shift but even he had to be in his bed by the time his dad got home tomorrow morning.

The three of them were in the living room watching TV when Isaac’s laptop lit up. He jerked upright.

“Guys!” he hissed at the two. Stiles and Derek immediately sat down on either side of him.

> **TIME:** 22:34:08
> 
> **MEGHAN** has entered the chat room.  
>  **DANIEL** has entered the chat room.

“Who’s Daniel?” Derek asked.

“She used a name. I might as well use one too.” Isaac flushed a little. “And, er, I use Daniel to name my online stuff.”

“Daniel. I think it fits you, boo,” Stiles said, making kissy faces at him. Isaac shouldered him none-too-gently.

“The chat room’s isolated, surrounded with random codes,” Isaac said. “That way anything we put in here will dissolve into more random code when either party logs off so we don’t have to worry about anonymity. Ms. Smoak can try tracking us but she won’t get anything.”

Stiles and Derek nodded.

> **MEGHAN:** if it’s true, prove it

Isaac and Derek turned to Stiles.

“Well, they’re obviously direct to the point,” Stiles said, rubbing his chin in thought. He grabbed his tablet. “We can send them two pictures of the notebook, the one with the drawing of a circuit board and the other one with Markov and Unidac written on it.”

> **DANIEL:** *sends jpeg (1)*  
>  **DANIEL:** *sends jpeg (2)*  
>  **DANIEL:** we have more proof  
>  **DANIEL:** if they’re building another Markov device we need to know how to deactivate it

It took the other party a few moments to reply.

> **MEGAN:** it’s not the same device  
>  **DANIEL:** what do you mean?  
>  **MEGHAN:** it’s similar to the device but it’s not the same  
>  **MEGHAN:** *sends jpeg*

Isaac clicked the link and what appeared was part of a blueprint.

Stiles frowned. “She’s right.” He pointed at the screen. “The dimensions are different and even the circuitry. See?” He pointed at a section of the circuits. “Three wires and a timer at the original. The one we have has six wires and a timer.”

“Dammit, that’s not good.” Derek muttered.

Stiles started looking through the other pictures of the notebook.

> **DANIEL:** looks like someone’s creating a modified version  
>  **MEGHAN:** tell us what you know. we’ve handled this before  
>  **DANIEL:** it’s our town. we’ll handle it  
>  **DANIEL:** but we do need help  
>  **MEGHAN:** don’t ask us for favors when you were the one who hacked into my system

Stiles and Derek looked at one another. It seemed they both came to the same conclusion.

“Tell them my name,” they said at the same time.

They glared at one another.

It made sense. The pack knew of Felicity and they have done some background checks on her and some of the people she spent time with. They could tell Felicity a name in turn. But it was still a risk and Isaac knew the Alpha pair was going to argue about this the way they always did.

Derek looked at Stiles. “It’s better if they find out about me. Give them my name.”

“We can’t do that,” Stiles said. “If she looks you up, they find the rest of the pack.”

“Same with you,” Derek said.

“No, they won’t. Not like that.” Stiles shook his head. “The most they’d find out about me is Dad, who is the Sheriff. There’s nothing hokey about him. Though…” He bit his lip.

“We’ll protect the Sheriff, Stiles,” Derek said.

“I know that,” Stiles said. “And we don’t have time to ask anyone else’s permission. But we can’t use you, Derek. Your name would bring everyone in. You fund half of the pack with your family’s Hale Scholar’s Fund. And your Isaac’s guardian the same way he is named your next of kin.”

“Which I’ve always been curious about,” Isaac piped up, raising a hand. “I’d have thought you’d put Stiles as next of kin. Not me.”

“Of course you.” Derek waved a hand. “And the entire pack, except him. I’m leaving it for when we get married.”

Stiles suddenly let out a squeak, blushing red as a lobster.

“Oh,” Isaac said, snapping fingers. “Which is why you haven’t named Stiles in any of your documents. Yet.”

“M-Married?” Stiles squeaked out.

Isaac groaned. “Stiles, it’s not as if you weren’t expecting that.” He turned to the laptop. “So that means Stiles’ name is safe to use?”

“No,” Derek said.

“Yes,” Stiles said.

The two glared at each other.

Derek growled at him, eyes flashing red. “If you put your name in there, Stiles, we won’t even get to have a wedding.”

Stiles glared back. Before he even opened his mouth, Isaac knew he would win this argument.

* * *

> **DANIEL:** we know one of yours, so here’s one of ours  
>  **DANIEL:** Genim Stilinski

Diggle immediately typed in the name in the other computers to start up a background search.

“They could just be using a fake name,” Felicity said. “Or someone not really part of their team.”

“If they need our help, they can’t afford to tell lie,” Diggle said.

> **MEGHAN:** you’re the ones hacking into Queen Consolidated, aren’t you?  
>  **DANIEL:** yes, we wanted to know more about the device in case you don’t help us  
>  **DANIEL:** we’ll stop

When Felicity took the time to check on her other computers, the poking and prodding running against Queen’s defenses did stop.

> **MEGHAN:** where are you?  
>  **DANIEL:** Beacon Hills, California.  
>  **MEGHAN:** contact no?  
>  **DANIEL:** Genim Stilinski: xx-xxxx-xxxx  
>  **MEGHAN:** we’ll be in touch
> 
> **TIME:** 22:52:49  
>  **MEGHAN** has exited the chat room.

“Genim Stilinski, a resident of Beacon Hills, California,” Diggle said as soon as Felicity logged out. “The name’s legit.”

“And so is the address,” Oliver said. “At least we know they didn’t lie at that. But we have to be careful. We can’t be sure this isn’t some big ruse.”

“The pictures with the drawings were pretty accurate though,” Felicity said. She knew the picture and the conversation would disappear so she had the thought to take a picture of her screen using her phone. She looked at it. “Why would someone want to build another Markov device? Malcolm Merlyn might be dead but I guess he might have inspired some people to do the same thing.”

Diggle motioned to the computers. “I looked it up and Beacon Hills is around one-half the size of the Glades. If that thing detonates, that town isn’t likely to survive it.”

“We have to be careful,” Oliver said grimly. “We can’t trust these people but we can’t ignore the chance that there is a threat. Maybe some of my contacts know more about Beacon Hills. Keep looking through anything else you can find.”

The two nodded. “Got it.”

* * *

Allison tossed her jacket and one of her favorite shirts inside her bag. She had a closet full of some of her favorite clothes at the Hale house but she always seemed to bring more and more stuff there. She juggled her phone between her shoulder and her ear.

“Well, at least we’re getting help, kind of,” Allison said to Scott. “We better be careful though.”

Derek, Stiles, and Isaac informed everyone of what happened last night with Felicity Smoak and it gave them hope about figuring everything out. At the same time, they knew they had to tread lightly. They couldn’t just go into this blindly.

_“I just want this over with,”_ Scott whined. _“I want a real summer vacation for once.”_

Allison smiled sadly. Everyone wanted that. “It’s ok, hon. We’ll get through this.” Allison zipped up her bag. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. I just have to–”

“Allison?”

Allison looked up at her Dad, standing by her door.

“Business,” Chris said with a serious look in his eyes.

Allison’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

_“Anything wrong?”_ Scott asked.

“Nothing to worry about,” Allison said to her mate, smiling reassuringly. “Just some Hunter business we need to take care of. I might take a while. Tell Derek I’ll be home in a few hours.”

She cut the call before Scott could hear or sense anything else.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” she asked.

“We’ve got some Hunters coming in to town,” Chris said. “And they’ve requested protection for the duration of their stay.”

That’s not unusual. Hunters who came in peace usually sought out the Argents, knowing full well that a strong and established werewolf pack manned the town borders. It was a constant balancing act for Allison to learn how to deal with these issues either as a Hunter or as a member of the pack. Allison was dearly hoping the time would come when those that come to Beacon Hills request an audience from the Argents and the Hale Pack together. Still, she was thankful for what they had now.

Allison nodded. “We have more than enough space here at home.”

“I’ll brief you on the way,” Chris said. “They’re already here though.”

“Already?” Allison was immediately suspicious.

Chris gave her a look, nodding.

“I’ve gotten reports from our scouts. They look nice enough,” Chris said. “But best be careful, hon.”

Allison squared her shoulders. “Of course. Shall we?”

* * *

Dara looked troubled but calm after Stiles told her the bare bones of what they have to deal with thus far with the Markov device.

“This is certainly one way to spend your vacation,” she said, nibbling on a biscuit.

They were in the kitchen where Stiles had laid out some juice, biscuits, and fresh fruit as they chatted.

Dara Danner was a close friend of Deaton’s and had mentored Stiles for a year and a half. She had long dark hair, blue eyes, and she was petite, standing only up to Stiles’ chin, but she was a strong sparker, quick on her feet, and knew how to use her small size to her advantage. Stiles had seen her hold her own during hand-to-hand sparring with the werewolves.

Another of the best things about Dara that also made her the best candidate to mentor Stiles, was that she was a person who was inherently calm and collected. She had done her share in training Stiles to be more silent and patient.

“Do you know of any reason to do this?” Stiles asked, feeling a bit desperate. “Or why in Beacon Hills?”

Dara thought about it, tapping her lower lip. “This is something different and more difficult than anything. If you were facing a supernatural creature, you would have a sense of its motivation. A werewolf would want a pack, territory, an alliance, even a mate. A magic user would want a source of energy. The human factor in this makes the problem much more serious.”

“They’re not entirely human though,” Stiles said. “When that person disappeared in a flash of light, that was definitely a bit of magic mojo. And a locator spell is near impossible to detect unless you know what you’re looking for, so whoever that person is knew to burn the notebook to make sure. If this isn’t a magic user though, it’s obvious it’s someone knowledgeable.”

There was the sound of footsteps as the Sheriff descended the stairs and entered the kitchen.

“Dara, good to see you,” he said. He ruffled Stiles’ hair as he passed. “Gotta get to the station, kiddo. The station is up to its arms with a new case.” He sighed, grabbing a bread roll from the counter and a bottle of water.

“Anything we could help you with?”

“We’re good for now. How about you guys? You need help?”

Stiles shook his head in reply.

“Call me if anything comes up, ok?” His Dad said. He clapped Stiles on the shoulder and walked out, waving to Dara.

“You’re not telling your Dad?” Dara asked.

“Not yet,” Stiles said. “We’re still grasping at straws with this new problem so I don’t want Dad stressing about it until we get something more.”

He and his Dad had gotten into a sort of agreement to let the other do what they do best, which was to be the Sheriff and to handle supernatural baddies respectively, provided they speak up immediately if they needed help.

Dara nodded, tapping her fingers on the table. “The first thing we need is to find a lead. I’ll see what I can find.”

“How long are you staying in town anyway?” Stiles asked. Dara still took the time to train Stiles but she had to travel once in a while for her clients.

“I can stay here for as long as you need my help,” Dara said, smiling serenely.

Stiles grinned back, pleased at having his mentor at his side. “Thanks, Dars. We need all the help we can get.”

“Not a problem.” Dara stretched her arms. “In fact, I think this is a good time to teach you that Unification spell I promised you.”

“Really? Now?” Stiles asked, grinning. Dara was a more experienced Sparker than he was, so he was always excited to know more from her.

“Sure thing,” Dara said, smiling. “I have been wondering about the perfect time to teach you anyway. I know we’re facing a bit of trouble but I see no reason to change plans. We can start with the basics now.”

“Yeah! Why not?” Stiles said excitedly. He reached over to his backpack on the counter and grabbed his journal. He rolled his sleeves up to his forearms, stroking the tattoos peeking at the edge.

Most of Stiles’ left arm was tattooed, from halfway up his forearm to the entire ball of his shoulder to the expanse of his left scapula and on the middle of his back between his shoulders was a triskelion tattoo similar to Derek’s, except it was a bit smaller and each spiral leg had a dot at the end.

Stiles started getting tattoos even before he met Dara. He started getting them when he was eighteen and already in college. Deaton helped him get started on learning about his spark and one of the things they learned was that Stiles had a volatile spark. A sparker’s energy comes from within so it was essentially an extension of themselves. Stiles was not only a late bloomer compared to most sparkers, but his already explosive personality meant he was unable to use his spark in short trickles. He didn’t have that kind of a delicate touch, as seen by how he performed that energy burst back when he tussled with that stranger at the forest. That was also why he had difficulty performing nonverbal spellcasting which required a level of grace in technique that he couldn’t really perform.

When he was eighteen and moved to Stanford with Lydia, he was a bit more knowledgeable in using his spark which made it easier to track down fellow sparkers around campus. That’s where he met Gordon, Alisha, and Deen, all of them older than him and had trained since they were kids. Gordon was in his late twenties and an expert nonverbal sparker. He taught Stiles a lot about control. Alisha was a year younger than him but she was very spell-savvy and experimental. Deen had a volatile spark like Stiles and was the one who taught him that the best way for sparkers like them to get a handle on their internal energy was to use mediums like blood, ink, runes, stones, leaves, and more. Stiles’ fellow sparkers were the one who accompanied him when he got his first tattoo, a hummingbird on his inner arm.

Deaton introduced Dara to him a year and a half ago. While his Stanford friends still continued training with him back in Stanford, Dara taught him more specialized spells. And now Stiles was excited to add Unification to his repertoire.

Dara was quiet at first, ordering her thoughts before she started. “Unification is a different thing from just using your spark. As you know, those like you with a volatile spark have a much larger reserve of energy than most sparkers to compensate for your occasional instability. Do you remember why I keep pushing you to train your physical stamina? Because if your body doesn’t have much endurance or strength, your spark is going to be too busy coursing through your body to keep you going instead of leaving you with more than enough energy to last in battle.”

“The principle of Unification is similar to when you Channel using mediums like blood or ink. Using these items, you end up controlling the energy you expel instead of just having it leak or burst out of you without control. Any sparker can Channel through a medium. It’s just more effective and used by you volatiles. Unification is more specific. What do you know about it?”

Stiles stopped writing for a moment. “Channeling or using a medium is sort of like hooking your spark along with something. Most objects have their own internal spark and when we use your own spark on them, we’re kind of just hitching a ride. Unification is pretty much merging your spark together with theirs.”

“Right,” Dara said chuckling. “Unification is harder to do because it requires you to shape your spark to be compatible with something else. Our spark is an extension of us and most sparkers find Unification difficult because it’s like you have to mutate part of you. Let’s have an example.”

Dara grabbed a fork and Stiles watched as it lit up with a greyish hue. Stiles’ personal spark was greenish in color and his Stanford friends had shades of violet, red, and blue. There was one guy Alisha had introduced him to that had a near-black spark. Dara was the only other person he knew who had a dark spark. Those with dark-hued sparks have dabbled in Unification and were quite rare.

Stiles watched as Dara’s grey spark lit up the fork. He then ‘ooh’ed in delight as he watched the fork bend in half and it’s tines fold in on themselves. When the spark receded, Dara presented him with a mutated fork.

“Unification allows you to control matter,” Dara said. “Especially in stuff like these, because man-made objects have little to no actual spark. Living things and those that carry inherently stronger spark are harder to Unify with.”

Dara made a motion to him and Stiles took out his dagger from his back pocket. Dara took it and gently pricked Stiles’ index and middle fingers. Stiles held back his spark to stop the tiny wounds from healing.

Dara reached out a hand, touching her index finger to his. “This is an unsuccessful Unifying.”

Their joined fingers lit up in grey and then next thing Stiles knew, there was a small jolt of pain and the smell of something burnt. When Dara pulled her finger away, the tip of his finger was an angry-red with the skin singed.

Dara then pressed their middle fingers together. “This is a successful Unifying.”

One their joined fingers lit up, Stiles didn’t smell or feel anything this time. All he felt was a tingle at the end of his finger before a pleasant zing coursed through him.

Dara grinned. “The idea of it is to learn how to share your spark with someone, find out how to bend and break your spark to allow something in.”

“It’s a two-way thing though, right?” Stiles asked, brow furrowing. “Unification can mean sharing but the other person might manipulate you if you’re not careful.”

Dara nodded. “Yes, and trust me, I’ve been on the receiving end of it myself. It’s not pretty. But I trust your control and weighing it against the upsides, you can see the appeal of Unifying. A great Unifier can heal, help a life that’s at death’s door, cure illness, and even bless someone with luck.”

Stiles gave his mentor a small smile. “Yeah, when you think about it that does sound pretty–”

The next thing they knew, they heard a commotion outside.

* * *

Diggle checked his gun in his holster and drummed his fingers a bit impatiently on the steering wheel. On the passenger seat was Oliver, who was on the phone, and at the back was Felicity, who was busy with her laptop.

“I’m really sorry about this, Thea,” Oliver was saying. “But it’s really urgent and we’ll be back in a few days. Walter will be checking in on you every once in a while.”

Oliver shook his head. “It’s nothing like that, Thea. This is business, not a vacation. Mr. Diggle and Felicity are coming along to help me. I’ll call every night and you call me or Walter if anything comes up at your end, ok? Anything.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll bring you back souvenirs,” Oliver said, a small smirk suddenly appeared on his face. “Oh, and Thea, your curfew’s at eleven and you’re expected to be at home every night.”

Diggle could hear Thea’s outraged shout of _‘What?!’_.

“Your boyfriend Roy is not allowed to step foot at the grounds,” Oliver continued. “Date night’s acceptable, just not at his house. Mr. Diggle has already made arrangements with security. I’ll know if you’re not home.”

_“WHAT?!”_ Thea was shouting. _“OLIVER!”_

But Oliver already cut the call.

Diggle chuckled. “Harsh.”

Oliver smirked back at him before Felicity popped up between the seats.

“So, gentlemen, what’s the game plan?” she asked.

Oliver nodded. “I’ve been talking to some of my contacts about Beacon Hills. Isis said there was well-established werewolf pack guarding its borders, the Hale Pack. Their Alpha is Derek Hale.”

Diggle groaned. “Great, more werewolves.”

“Alpha…” Felicity muttered. “I’ve been looking up more info on werewolves and trust me you do not want to tackle that topic guns a-blazing. I’ve seen more kinky porn than I want to see. Ever.”

Oliver choked on nothing and Diggle coughed down a chuckle.

Felicity didn’t seem to notice that. “Anyhow, werewolf packs are kind of like wolf packs. They have the Alpha who is like the leader, right? And they have Betas, which are like lower-ranked and are their subordinates. And we have Omegas, those of the lowest rank or those who don’t have a pack of their own. Did I get that right?”

Oliver nodded.

“Should I do a background check on this Hale pack?” Felicity asked.

Oliver shook his head. “Isis assured me that the Hale pack are pretty peaceful. We’re civilians so we don’t have to worry about doing a courtesy visit or asking permission to enter their territory. The Hales are well-known in the supernatural circles. The Hale family was one of the most prominent werewolf families during their prime until a fire killed most of the family members a little over a decade ago. Derek Hale’s the last one alive. He’s been adding to his own pack the past couple of years. Isis didn’t have much info but she knows not all of them are werewolves.”

“That’s odd,” Diggle said. “To be a in a werewolf pack and not be a werewolf?”

“I don’t know. I’m not knowledgeable on werewolf culture,” Oliver said. His phone buzzed and he checked it with a nod. “Come on.”

Oliver stepped out of the car. Diggle followed and Felicity scrambled out the backseat.

Diggle looked around. They were parked at the edge of Beacon Hills. He could see the welcome sign and the small picturesque town stretching out in the distance. It was a little past nine in the morning and while the three of them hardly got any sleep last night in their haste to prepare everything and board a plane straight to California, Diggle could feel the crisp, clean, woodsy air of the small town rejuvenating him.

“I kinda like this place,” Felicity said, sighing deeply as she leaned against the back of the car they rented. “Makes me miss home.”

“Did you grow up in the countryside?” Oliver asked, leaning beside her, arms touching.

“No,” Felicity said, leaning against him. “But my maternal grandparents had a house in the suburbs where they moved after they retired. I used to visit every summer.”

“That sounds nice,” Oliver said, leaning back on his arms. Felicity settled beside him. “I’ve lived in the city forever.”

“There is that five-year-long stint at the island,” Felicity said, poking his ribs. “Though I don’t think that one was a nice experience.”

“It wasn’t for the most part,” Oliver said, chuckling.

“We should take a vacation to the country some time,” Felicity said, tapping her lower lip with a finger. “Or like, take a vacation, period. Like, the beach, or a cruise, or something. Not that I can afford that. But it’s a nice thought.”

“Anywhere you want, Felicity,” Oliver said. “It’s on me.”

Felicity pouted and the two started bickering back and forth light-heartedly.

Diggle smiled to himself as he watched them. It was a source of amusement and occasional frustration for him at how those two gravitated towards one another unconsciously.

**BOOM!**

A loud explosion cut through the air.

“Oh my gosh!” Felicity gasped as they turned to the forest to their left.

They all stared in shock as a thin trail of smoke broke through the treetops just a few ways off from where they were.

Diggle frowned. “Should we…” He looked to Oliver.

Oliver looked conflicted. “We’re civilians, true, but we can’t risk getting–”

**BOOM!**

The trail of smoke grew thicker.

And there was a scream, faint but obvious. The only reason they heard it was because they were close enough and the wind was blowing everything right towards their direction.

Diggle was already getting into the jeep as Oliver and Felicity followed. He was glad Oliver decided to invest in the sturdy and all-terrain Jeep Wrangler. It would be no problem at all to get through the forest. He set the jeep on course while Felicity worked on her laptop and on the small overhead screens hooked up to the jeep.

“Hey, Oliver,” Felicity called out, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Like even if John can’t see the obvious pillar of smoke in the distance, the thermal, satellite, and aerial imaging on these computers is topnotch. Remind me to thank Anatoli for all these.”

Oliver was at the back of the jeep already digging through his bag of weapons. “He probably feels better having given it to someone who can use it better than he could.”

Diggle watched Oliver at the back. “Oliver, don’t tell me you’re going to go vigilante here? We might not be in Starling City but if word gets around, you’re in big trouble.”

Oliver shook his head and pulled out an automatic crossbow and not his usual bow. “I’m not. This is just for precaution. We’re not even going to get involved in this, but if someone is hurt, I have to be able to help.”

“We’re closing in,” Felicity said, letting out a little squeak when Diggle floored the pedal. Thank god for her seatbelt. “Something’s out here, probably an outhouse or something that caught fire. We’re first on site as far as I can read.” She jabbed a button at the screen.

Diggle hit the brakes and they all gaped as they arrived at the scene. Felicity was right. A lone outhouse had burst into flames and because of its small size, most of it was now burnt through.

Diggle noticed a flash of movement. “Ten o-clock!”

It was small and running away from the flames, a child. The child tripped and collapsed and never got up.

“Oh my gosh, the kid!” Felicity immediately unbuckled her seatbelt and was out the door as soon as the jeep stopped and before Diggle and Oliver could do something.

“Felicity! Be careful!” Oliver spoke up, scrambling after her.

Suddenly, something burst out from the outhouse, something burning. It was headed in a different direction before suddenly falling over. Oliver ran towards the person instead and then started throwing dirt over the burning body to smother the flames.

Diggle followed, gun in hand just in case, and looked around. Felicity was already with the unconscious child while Oliver was still trying to save the burning body.

There was a loud creak as the outhouse’s roof caved in because of the flames and then two more bodies burst out of the door and ran their way.

Diggle was quick to point his gun away, but the figures were running straight for them. “Hey! Stay back! Don’t come any closer! Stop, drop, and roll to get the flames out!”

Oliver noticed it too and turned to Felicity. “Felicity!”

Suddenly, someone burst through the treeline.

* * *

Derek was taking a nap at the time, stretched out on the hammock Erica had ordered him to hang at the back porch. Lydia and Erica were seated on the steps doing their nails. Danny and Isaac were out on a date and Boyd and Scott were training. Stiles was back at home after spending the night with the Sheriff, Jackson was with his family, while Allison was busy with Hunter business.

Derek was jarred awake and the rest of the house was spurred into action when the first explosion happened. Derek was on his feet in an instant and he heard everyone inside the house rushing out the door. He squinted at the distance and his eyes widened at the trail of smoke that broke the treetops. Derek took off, shouting over his shoulder and trusting his Pack to hear it.

“Boyd, Scott with me! Lydia, Erica get the Pack!”

Derek had already broken through the treeline and was running fast. He could feel Boyd to his left and Scott to his right as they flanked him. He didn’t let out a howl, just in case this wasn’t anything serious. And he knew Lydia and Erica were going to get ahold of everyone anyway.

Derek let his eyes flare to life, glowing with a deep, angry red. He heard his Betas snarl behind him, could feel them let their wolves take over. As they neared, they could see and hear everything. There was a small outhouse burning, the walls and roof already caving in, and there were already people gathered around the site. Derek snarled, worried over the possibility of civilians.

“Boyd, take the left side. Scott, go right. Drop the fangs. Don’t let them see you,” Derek warned his Betas.

“Got it,” Scott said, veering off.

Boyd nodded and ran the other way.

A familiar smell hit him and Derek saw it when Dara burst through the treeline first. When he hit the clearing, fangs and wolf eyes tucked away, he saw two burning figures running amok. One was headed straight for Dara, who was crouched protectively in front of a blonde woman holding a child, and the other one was headed for a guy holding a gun but shouting for it to stop in its tracks. Off in the distance, there was another man trying to help another burning body.

“Dara!” Derek shouted as the man on fire rushed at the woman. Dara held her ground in front of the people she was trying to protect.

Derek was by Dara’s side in an instant, pushing away the flaming body. His shirt and palms caught on fire and he winced in pain but the figure was pushed away and rolled over, dousing some of the flames. He immediately started digging through the earth with his bare hands to kill the flames. He saw Boyd and Scott break through the treeline, Scott going straight to the black man with the gun, tripping over the burning figure and then shoveling dirt over him as well to stop the flames, while Boyd approached the other man.

“Derek, your shirt’s burning!” Dara called out. Hands were on Derek’s back and he flicked out a claw to help Dara rip the shirt off. Dara started stomping on it to get the flames out.

Everyone in the clearing flinched at the loud creak and crackle as the outhouse completely collapsed in on itself from the flames.

“Are you all right?” Derek asked, looking at his mate’s mentor. He could see the stress on Dara’s face as she took deep breaths, running hands through her hair. Dara nodded to him.

“Felicity!” The man, blonde and tall, ran towards the woman who was cradling the child. He gripped her arm tight. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

The woman looked rattled, eyes wide behind her glasses. “I-I’m fine. I… Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Are they dead?” Her voice was high-pitched and still panicked.

Felicity.

…Felicity?

The name made Derek jolt and he knew he wasn’t the only one. He turned to Boyd and Scott, both of them looking as shocked as he felt.

“Are you… Is your name Felicity Smoak?” Derek asked warily.

The woman, Felicity, jerked, turning to him with panicked eyes. The other man whirled towards him, his face suddenly edging into a glare, gaze sharp and protective.

“… Er… maybe?” Felicity’s eyes narrowed.

If Stiles was here, Derek knew what his mate would do: He’d laugh and say this was fucking surreal.

Derek nodded to her. “Welcome to Beacon Hills. We’re the reason you’re here.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you.” Felicity turned back to Oliver and Diggle. “Where are we staying?”
> 
> “We can take you to the guestroom, Felicity,” Chris spoke up. “It’s just down the hall.”
> 
> “Thank you,” Felicity said. She turned to Derek and smiled at him sweetly. “Thank you also for your help earlier, Alpha Hale. Now, if you don’t mind. I kinda want to pass out now.”
> 
> As soon as she finished speaking, Oliver barely had time to catch Felicity in his arms before she slumped forward in a dead faint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, let me apologize for the long wait between chapters but I was a mess with real life and keeping up with Teen Wolf (goodbye season 3b) and not keeping up with Arrow (TW’s over so I can finally catch up with A) and also hitting a writer’s block with the direction of the story. But after rereading it with a fresher perspective, I can honestly say we’re going to get a move on with the story now.
> 
> Thank you very much to those who commented and Kudos-ed. I hope you like the chapter.

The Sheriff crouched low and checked the body. He winced at the sight and the smell. He didn’t have a werewolf's hearing or sense of smell but the pack had been an influence in making him more aware of how to use his senses. And right now, the scent was strong enough to make lesser men gag. But the Sheriff liked to think he was not a lesser man.

“Give me the rundown, Deputy.”

His deputy, Kyle Parrish, looked at his notepad, his nose almost completely scrunched up from the smell as he spoke. “Got a call from some concerned citizens about an explosion out here in the forest and sent some of the deputies over asap. The source of the explosion was this outhouse which also caught on fire, though we’re still not sure which came first, if it’s an explosion causing the fire or vice versa. We got ourselves a few civilians who were first on site and wanted to help.” He pointed to the small crowd seated over by the cruiser.

John glanced over at them. There was a blonde woman and a burly black guy wrapped up in orange shock blankets. And also Derek, who was shirtless. The first two were talking in hushed voices while Derek was giving the Sheriff a meaningful look, obviously listening in. The Sheriff didn’t even admonish him for it.

Kyle continued. “We have town resident, Derek Hale, who was near the area and arrived to help. We also have a few newcomers to town, Felicity Smoak and John Diggle. They own that jeep over there. Drove right over after they heard the commotion.” He pointed to a rather large black Jeep Wrangler. The site was pretty far off the road and deep in the forest so only the bigger and heavy-duty vehicles were able to arrive on site. It made sense that the Jeep Wrangler was able to get here quickly.

John sighed. “Leaving them aside for now, what else?”

Kyle nodded. “We’re clearing out the remains of the outhouse and bagging any evidence we can. Turns out someone was using it. We’re not sure what for but hopefully forensics can get on that soon enough.”

“And the bodies?” John asked. They wandered over to the bodies forensics was still inspecting. He glanced at the ambulance that was waiting to cart away the burnt bodies.

“According to the witnesses, three bodies came from inside the outhouse,” Kyla replied. “Two of them burnt to death and a third one has already been sent off to the hospital.” He shook his head. “At a glance, we’re not sure that one’s going to make it but I have someone on hand at the hospital to monitor the suspect’s progress and see when is the soonest we can get a statement.”

“Good,” John said, nodding and sighing. “And the kid?”

Kyle winced. “Kid’s been sent to the hospital. She’s still unconscious and we’re not quite sure who she is yet, but she’s not from here and probably about ten to twelve years old if I have to guess. We’ll contact the nearby towns and see if they have a missing child that matches her description.”

“Good job, Deputy,” John said. “Keep me posted on how the investigation is going. I want to know what caused that fire and that explosion and what was in that outhouse as soon as forensics finds out.”

“Sure thing, Sheriff,” Kyle said. “But what are we going to do about the witnesses? I’ve already had a deputy get their statements.”

“I’ll handle them,” John said. “I’ll go ahead and get them settled, make sure none of them leave town just in case.”

Kyle nodded and walked off to talk to the team as John approached the trio.

“Deputy, I’ll take over,” he said, waving to the woman. She nodded and walked off. He looked at them.

“Derek,” he nodded to his son’s – mate was still an odd word to him – boyfriend. He received a nod in reply.

“Sheriff,” he said, looking a bit embarrassed. He knew Derek was probably flashing to the moment all those years ago when he was arrested. It was still an odd moment for them both.

John sighed. “Always trouble in these parts. It never gets quiet.”

“I agree,” Derek said.

John turned to the two. “Good afternoon. I’m John Stilinski, Beacon Hill’s Sheriff. You are?”

The man nodded stiffly. “John Diggle, sir.”

The woman gripped John’s arm, looking nervous. “F-Felicity Smoak. And may I just say, Sheriff, I’ve never had a record before, ever. I don’t really want to start having one now.”

“You’re not in trouble. Don’t worry,” John said, smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way. He knew people tend to feel nervous towards their law enforcement officers by default. “Not unless you did anything wrong but in any case,” he lowered his voice, “I was told by a reliable source that you two are on the clear.”

“Stiles?” Derek asked.

John nodded. “Got a text from him about not arresting you three.”

Felicity and Diggle looked surprised. Derek just sighed.

“Now I might be biased but my son has already vouched for you,” John said, talking softly so that no other Deputy could hear. “I personally don’t know what the hell is going on but there’s usually a good reason for this. What say you give up the Jeep Wrangler for now so I can fix things up on my end and we can resolve this peacefully. Don’t worry. I will return it in tiptop shape. But better we don’t all get in trouble, ok?”

Felicity and John glanced at one another, looking uneasy, but Diggle willingly gave up the keys.

The Sheriff nodded and waved over to Kyle, tossing the keys to him. “Have someone take that Jeep Wrangler for now. I’ll handle it at the station.”

The Sheriff herded everyone into his cruiser, Derek at the passenger seat and Felicity and John at the back since they wanted to stick together, and then drove off. Derek immediately grabbed one of the few extra shirts they hid under the back seat for just such emergencies.

“W-Where are we going? Er, with all due respect, Sheriff?” Felicity asked, gripping the orange shock blanket around her. She turned to Diggle. “W-We can’t exactly be arrested, right? I mean no one’s even read us our Miranda rights. We can’t be arrested without due evidence.”

“The Sheriff is on our side,” Derek said softly.

“Obviously, this is one of your little adventures.” John sighed, glancing at him. “Tell my son I want to know all that’s going on once I get everything settled, got that?”

“I thought he’d been keeping you updated…” At the Sheriff’s incredulous look, Derek flushed in embarrassment. “Yeah, I should have known better. I’ll tell Stiles.”

John looked at the back through the rearview mirror. “And Ms. Smoak–”

“Felicity, please,” she immediately said.

“Felicity,” John said softly. “I’m not going to arrest you. But I have been told to take you to the Argent house.”

“That’s fine, sir,” Diggle said. “We know the Argents.”

“You do?” Derek asked, turning around to look at them.

John saw Diggle’s cautious gaze towards Derek and Felicity cower into his arm.

John sighed. Hooboy.

What had the pack gotten into this time?

* * *

Stiles watched Oliver Queen himself sitting rigidly on the Argent couch. His face looked grim and he looked close to angry.

When Stiles and Dara heard about the explosion, Dara immediately ordered him to get to the pack while she went ahead into the forest. By the time he got the call from Erica and Lydia and arrived at the scene of the explosion, everything was already a mess.

He definitely didn’t expect Felicity Smoak to be there in the flesh, and dragging Oliver Queen at that. Stiles had only seen the billionaire on TV and he was admittedly struck a bit giddy at the thought of meeting quite a rich, powerful, and famous man. He didn’t think Felicity knew him or was even friends with the man.

He also didn’t expect Oliver Queen to be acquainted with Hunters. Oliver had immediately dropped the Argent name, claiming to be under their jurisdiction. As it turned out, they had requested the Argent family’s protection during their stay at Beacon Hills and had been on their way to meet Allison and Chris when the explosion happened. According to Allison, Oliver was a close acquaintance of the Lesedi family, a powerful Hunter family that lived the next town over to Starling City. The Argents had offered their protection to Queen without knowing Felicity was with him as well.

Stiles almost laughed as he thought about the coincidences. This was fucking surreal.

At the loveseat, Allison was still and silent, face giving nothing away, Chris was standing behind her looking pensive, and leaning on the wall behind Stiles was the silent Scott, who was fidgeting a bit impatiently.

As soon as Stiles arrived at the site and had gotten the gist of everything, he set to work clearing everybody from the scene. Dara and Boyd were immediately sent off home, while Scott and Stiles went about escorting Queen to the Argents. Derek was left on site because it was easy enough to explain his presence considering a sizable portion of forest land still belonged to the Hale family and Derek was known to go around the forest by the townsfolk. Also, Derek was known to be an upstanding citizen, being involved with the Sheriff’s son. He wouldn’t get into too much trouble.

Ms. Smoak and her friends were a problem. They couldn’t risk getting Oliver Queen involved in any kind of problem because his name would send unwanted attention their way. Felicity was adamant about not leaving behind the child in her arms so Mr. Diggle had to stay behind to look after her. Obviously, Oliver was worrying about both of his friends and Stiles could understand that. But the man’s silence and aura was kind of scaring him.

In some ways, Stiles was reminded of Derek when he looked at Oliver.

Stiles shifted in his seat. Silence didn’t work for him. He was in the middle of thinking of what to say when he heard Scott shift behind him. Someone was coming. If Oliver knew about Hunters, there was a chance he knew about the supernatural, but Derek had warned them of not drawing attention to werewolves so Scott was being as silent as he could be.

The doorbell rang and Chris walked off to get the door. Everyone in the room stood up.

First to appear was Derek, making a beeline straight for Stiles without nary a glance at Oliver. He walked over, wrapping his arms around him. Stiles immediately relaxed. Chris came next, leading Felicity Smoak and John Diggle inside. They were both covered in orange shock blankets. Felicity’s hair was a mess and her eyes were wide behind her smudged glasses. Diggle was frowning heavily.

Oliver was up and over to them in an instant. One arm curled around Felicity’s back and his other hand on Diggle’s arm. Oliver talked to them in soft and hushed tones.

Stiles turned to Derek, one hand gripping his forearm. “You ok, Der?”

Derek nodded, nuzzling against his temple. “Yeah, I’m all right. Your Dad’s pretty pissed though. Apparently you’ve been keeping him out of the loop.”

Stiles winced. “I wasn’t, not really.” He sighed. “I just thought he already had a lot on his plate. I didn’t want to bother.”

Scott walked over, thumping a fist lightly against Derek’s shoulder. “You good, Derek?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah. The rest of the pack ok?”

Scott nodded. “Boyd took Dara home and probably already told everyone what happened by now. Everyone’s staying over the house anyway and wants to–”

“Don’t be stupid!”

They all turned to the other side of the room.

Oliver was sighing while Diggle was rubbing his face. Felicity was glaring at both of them through her smudged glasses.

“They don’t trust us,” Derek muttered silently. “Felicity begs to differ, said we seemed like nice people.”

Oliver tried to say something but Felicity was hissing at both men, who looked cowed by the force of her. Stiles immediately felt a liking to her.

“Oliver said we were werewolves,” Derek said softly. “Felicity doesn’t really care.”

Scott was snickering behind his hand and Derek glared at him for being inappropriate. “I’m sorry but she’s like… she’s kinda like a girl Stiles.”

“Excuse me?” Stiles glared at his best friend and then at Derek when he actually deigned to look thoughtful about it.

Scott snickered again. “You should hear her, Stiles.”

As if on cue, Felicity suddenly waved her hands in the air, just like how Stiles would when he was trying to make a point. The orange shock blanket slid off her shoulders and she spun on her heels and started stomping over to where Stiles and the others were, leaving Oliver to scramble and get the blanket. Derek made to stand in front of Stiles protectively, but Stiles pinched his hip.

“Hi,” Felicity said, walking over to them. She looked a bit harried and her glasses were still smudged. As if she could read Stiles’ thoughts, she took off her glasses and hooked them on her shirt.

“Hello,” she said again. “My name is Felicity Smoak. You must be Genim Stilinski.”

“Yeah, I am,” Stiles said. He reached over a hand. “It’s really good to meet you… er, despite the circumstances.”

Felicity took his hand and shook it firmly before sighing. “I agree and I totally want to get to business with the Markov device as soon as possible–”

Oliver took a step towards her. “Felicity, maybe you shouldn’t say–”

“Zip!” Felicity pointed a finger behind her without turning back. Oliver clammed up. “–And we will, I can promise you that. But I can’t have this thing happening right now, like if we need to conduct some kind of formal werewolf and hunter meet-and-greet ceremony or something, I was hoping we could postpone it for the time being because I cannot believe I am actually in the same room as a werewolf, much less an Alpha,” she glanced at Derek, “considering I just found out about the supernatural like a week ago. That and I just saw people burning to death in front of me. It is not doing good things to my thought process at the moment. Oh, and also not forgetting the fact that you and your team managed to hack into my foolproof, ironclad system which should be near impossible. So, can we do this after a good night’s rest? Please?”

Felicity turned to Allison. “Please, Miss Argent? I know you’re supposed to be our guardian or something and I am so thankful but can we take a raincheck?”

There was silence. Everyone was looking at Felicity.

Stiles cleared his throat. Yeah, he really did like this woman.

“She’s right and I agree,” Stiles said.

Allison nodded. “I can understand that everything has been more than a bit overwhelming, and it is getting a bit late. We can regroup tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.” Felicity turned back to Oliver and Diggle. “Where are we staying?”

“We can take you to the guestroom, Felicity,” Chris spoke up. “It’s just down the hall.”

“Thank you,” Felicity said. She turned to Derek and smiled at him sweetly. “Thank you also for your help earlier, Alpha Hale. Now, if you don’t mind. I kinda want to pass out now.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Oliver barely had time to catch Felicity in his arms before she slumped forward in a dead faint.

* * *

When Felicity woke up, the first thing she thought of was that she wanted to ask Stiles if vampires were real. Because it would make sense for vampires to be real too, right? And you can’t forget the usual witches and wizards. Was Harry Potter a possibility? Did Hogwarts exist?

A soft snuffle made her start and she sat up, pulling the blankets over her chest. It was either the middle of the night or really early morning so it was still really dark out, but the soft moonlight through the window gave her enough light to see the room. She saw Diggle sleeping peacefully on an air mattress on the floor beside the bed and it was only when she spotted Oliver stretched out across the window seat that she heaved a sigh of relief. She always felt safer when her boys were around.

She looked around. She wasn’t able to see the Argent guestroom before she flopped over. The room was not too small for the three of them to crash in and it felt pretty homey. The room’s color scheme was a bevy of blues and whites with the medium-sized bed pushed against the wall. There was a small dresser which was surrounded by Felicity’s violet luggage and laptop bag, Diggle’s red duffel, and Oliver’s bulky green travel bag and padlocked bag of weapons. There was an en suite bathroom, which was awesome.

Felicity spied the clock on the wall. It was a little past three in the morning. She looked down and winced upon realizing that she was still in yesterday’s shirt and jeans. She didn’t even feel embarrassed about it and about fainting in front of everyone. She saw a burning body, for god’s sake. Everyone should give her a pass.

Felicity slowly and quietly slid off the bed. Oliver and Diggle were both light sleepers and she didn’t want to wake them. She padded over to her suitcase and slowly zipped it open, pulling out an oversized shirt and shorts. She darted into the bathroom, changing her clothes in a hurry without the need to open the lights. When she came back out, she glanced back at her boys and was satisfied to see them both stripped down and looking comfortable in sweats and shirts. She walked over for a moment to tuck Oliver’s blanket around him.

Oliver looked really peaceful and calm in his sleep. Well, he was always calm but he looked ages younger when off to dreamland, like how Felicity thought he would have looked if he didn’t have those years on the island heavy and ever-present at the back of his mind. She knew he still had nightmares, but she’s never seen him had one before, neither had Diggle. The handful of times anyone or all of their little trio ended up sleeping together, Oliver always seemed at peace enough not to get nightmares.

Felicity borrowed Diggle’s soft slippers and walked out of the room, relieved that the door opened noiselessly. There was a small lamp open so she walked down the hall and down the stairs without trouble and headed straight for the kitchen. She hadn’t really had much of a chance to talk to the Argents and see their home but they seemed like nice people so she could safely assume that grabbing herself a cold glass of water was not tantamount to starting some supernatural war or something.

She was on her way up the stairs when her eyes drifted over to the pictures hanging up on the wall.

“Allison is really pretty,” she muttered to herself, looking at pictures of said maiden on the wall. She saw a few family pictures with Chris and an older woman that was probably Allison’s mom.

Felicity stopped short upon seeing the pictures near the end. One was of Allison in her high school graduation toga with her dad. Beside it was one of her and… Felicity tapped her bottom lip in thought.

Scott. Yeah. That guy was Scott, Stiles’ best friend and part of the Hale pack.

Scott was also in his toga and he had his arms around Allison’s waist, their heads bent together. They were beaming at the camera.

Before Felicity could wonder about that, her gaze fell on the last picture in the row. It was a picture of a group of people sitting around the front porch of a large house, obviously brand new. She could see Allison on the left side of the picture leaning against the railing. One of her arms was around Scott and another was wrapped around a woman with blonde hair and bright red lipstick. She was hand-in-hand with a man smirking at the camera.

“Wow. He kinda looks like Roy,” Felicity mumbled, squinting a little. Her lack of glasses made it hard to really see, though.

On the right side of the picture and leaning against the railing were two tall guys, a curly blonde and another a brunette with dimples, with their elbows on the railing and smiling wide. Seated on the railing was a blonde woman, laughing brightly, with a tall, black and smiling guy behind her. Seated on the front steps to the porch were three adults, two men and a woman.

“That’s Chris Argent and Sheriff Stilinski.” She pointed to the men. She didn’t know about the woman.

Leaning against the Sheriff with one arm around his neck and the other holding onto the wooden post was Stiles, smiling wide and goofy. Leaning on the other post was none other than Derek Hale. He wasn’t smiling but he looked close to it.

Felicity’s head was buzzing in thought as he walked back up the steps to the guestroom.

There was no doubt that the picture was of the Hale pack. Derek was there and so were Stiles and Scott. She remembered Oliver saying that the Hale pack had humans but from the picture alone she couldn’t discern who was werewolf and who wasn’t.

But Chris and Allison were there too. Does that mean they were also with the Hale pack?

The Argents were hunters, just like the Lesedis. The Lesedi hunt werewolves. Then again, Oliver did mention that Hunters had a code, to protect and defend and hunt only those who pose a threat. He also said there were nice and not-nice hunters and supernatural creatures.

“Ooh, this is confusing,” Felicity mumbled.

Felicity got back inside the room, relieved to see her boys still sleeping. She silently stepped over Diggle and burrowed herself into the covers. She immediately fell asleep before she could even wonder how that worked.

When Felicity woke up, again, she resumed her thoughts on the supernatural creatures. Can garlic and sunlight really kill vampires? Do witches and wizards need wands? Or ride on brooms? And holy moley but are dragons real? If they were, how could someone get one?

“Felicity, you’re not even out of bed yet and I can hear you thinking already.”

Felicity sat up, rubbing her eyes. She saw Oliver barefooted and without a shirt busy doing push-ups.

Felicity bit back a yawn, patting down her messy hair. “Morning. What time is it?”

Oliver’s neck and bare torso were glistening with sweat. It was too early for Felicity to start blushing but her brain definitely woke up a little at the sight.

“Good morning.” Oliver smiled. “And it’s a little past eight. Dig’s downstairs. How are you feeling?” He walked over, grabbing his towel.

Felicity yawned again, stretching a little. “I’m better now. I was pretty shocked about everything last night I guess. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Oliver said.

“What’s the plan for today?” Felicity asked, as she slid off the bed, delighted to see a pair of soft grey slippers for herself. “First dibs on the shower, by the way.”

“We’re meeting the Hale Pack after lunch.” Oliver laid down on the floor over his towel and started a round of sit-ups. “Digg’s already downstairs. Don’t take too long.”

“I’ll be quick,” Felicity said, grabbing her things. “And trust me, I don’t mind the least bit, especially with the mess we’ve seen so far, but are we all sharing this room?”

Oliver nodded. “Digg and I thought it would be safer and I personally would feel a lot better being close to you too.”

“Oh, good. I feel the same way.” She sighed in relief. “But we are totally rotating shifts on the bed. I cannot have you two hurting your backs or something.” She slipped into the bathroom before Oliver could contest that.

Later, Felicity was dressed in her favorite purple blouse and flowy skirt as she followed Oliver, clad in jeans and a polo shirt, down to the kitchen. She paused just before entering the room, squinting at the wall of pictures on the hall.

“Felicity?” Oliver called out.

“…Oh, er… coming,” Felicity said, frowning.

She followed Oliver into the dining room and saw Allison and Chris at the dining table.

The two pictures were gone, the one with Scott and Allison and the other one of the Hale pack. The other pictures were rearranged to hide the missing spot and if Felicity hadn’t seen them the night before she would have thought nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Good morning,” Chris said, looking up from the newspaper.

Oliver and Felicity greeted him back.

“Breakfast?” Allison asked, pointing over to Diggle who was in the kitchen and manning the stove. “Mr. Diggle was kind enough to make some.”

“Not a problem,” Diggle called out. “You’re letting us stay over after all. It’s the least I could do.”

“I can take breakfast duty tomorrow,” Felicity said. She giggled. “And we’ll be lucky if Oliver doesn’t burn your house down so I’ll take over for him.” She grinned as Oliver flushed.

Breakfast was served soon enough and they all dug into Diggle’s waffles, bacon, eggs and some fruit.

“We’ve arranged a meeting with the Hale pack just after lunch if that’s ok with you,” Allison asked politely.

“Is there a need for the formality?” Felicity asked after swallowing a mouthful of waffles. “I don’t think they’re like bad guys or anything. I mean, Alpha Hale looks scary but he did save us from burning to death. I think he’s all right. And I fainted in front of them. That’s already pretty far from formal.”

“We certainly don’t have to,” Allison said, smiling. “Anything to make you comfortable and Derek’s nothing if not accommodating.”

“Most of the time,” Chris muttered.

“We’re willing to help them in any way we can,” Oliver said, sounding so formal and diplomatic despite the easy aura in the room and the fact that his bacon and eggs were shaped into a droopy smiley face. “But you have to understand that we’re just ensuring our protection. We don’t want to get involved with the supernatural.”

“We really, really don’t,” Diggle said, shaking his head. “Sorry if it sounds rude, but we’re just planning to go in and then get out.”

“Ditto.” Felicity raised a hand.

Because that was true. The reason they hopped into a plane and went to Beacon Hills asap was not only because they were alarmed at the reappearance of a Markov device, but also because they wanted this over and done with and then go back to their not-really-peaceful-but-still-somewhat-normal life of defeating crazy criminals. The supernatural wasn’t really something they wanted to deal with.

Chris nodded. “Of course. We understand. The Hale pack comes in peace but we assure you of the protection of all our Hunters if you need it.”

“Thank you,” Oliver said. “That would be appreciated.”

“But you work with the Hale pack right?” Felicity couldn’t help asking. “And you’ll still protect us from them?”

Allison and Chris glanced at one another.

“Usually a treaty is formed,” Oliver explained. “If the Hale pack is peaceful, then it’s much easier to uphold treaties and boundaries. Nobody gets hurt. Not all werewolves or hunters are dangerous.”

Felicity shook her head, waving her arms. “No, I mean… you like, really, really work with them, right?” She thought back to the picture of Scott and Allison and the entire Hale pack. “I don’t know much about Hunters and pack rules and etiquette and stuff, and if there’s some kind of agreement here, I can see why you seem to be on ok terms with them. But they were here, at your house. Now I might be new at this supernatural stuff but I assume wolves and Hunters are territorial.”

“Yes, werewolves are territorial,” Allison said, smiling calmly. “And yes, we do work with them. In fact, to make it more accurate, the Argent family is part of the Hale pack.”

Oliver suddenly look wary. Felicity knew that face. That was his ‘I am now suspicious of you’ face, especially since Oliver, while being knowledgeable about some supernatural things, didn’t quite know a lot about werewolves himself.

Oliver looked at the Argents closely. “I’ve heard rumors that the Hale pack had human members but I didn’t think they’d be… well, certainly not Hunters.”

“And shouldn’t a pack of werewolves just be full of, you know, werewolves?” Diggle asked, eating amiably and not at all affected by Oliver’s sudden tenseness.

“It’s a common misconception and it’s a very unusual arrangement to some,” Allison said, still smiling pleasantly. “We’ve worked together many times and we’ve been part of their pack for six years now.”

“So you know everything that’s going on with the device and needing our help?” Oliver asked, his wary face growing even warier. “And yet you still agreed to be our guardian without telling us you were on their side?”

Chris cleared his throat. “You have to understand that when Isis Lesedi requested our assistance to safeguard her associates we didn’t know it would be you.”

“And we are peaceful. We are not looking to make trouble for anyone, and we certainly have not given you reason to distrust us,” Allison cut in smoothly. “Also, if we’re pointing fingers at one another, I must also beg the question of how infamous billionaire Oliver Queen became involved with the supernatural world in the first place. You have to admit that is a more interesting matter.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Oliver’s lips twitched in the way Felicity knew he wanted to smirk. “That is a good question. Touché, Miss Argent.”

“We know you’re worried and believe me, we understand,” Allison said. “And we also know very well how to keep secrets, including yours. Rest assured you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“…we saw burning bodies our first day here. That’s something to worry about,” Felicity muttered.

Chris coughed, obviously fighting back a smile. “Well, that’s pretty normal around here.”

“I’m scared to ask what’s not normal,” Diggle said.

Allison gave him a wry smile. “You should be.”

* * *

Stiles was up bright and early the next morning, even before his alarm went off. He tilted his head to the side and was met with the sight of his still-sleeping mate. Derek looked peaceful, his hair messy, and lips parted as he took deep and even breaths. Stiles leaned over, kissing the ball of Derek’s bare shoulder. His Derek was still beautiful even in sleep.

Stiles scooted off the bed, gently slipping from the warm circle of Derek’s arms and set about grabbing their discarded clothing. He sighed upon seeing his shirt torn a little at the neckline. Derek had gotten a bit too pissed at his clothes last night and had almost clawed them all off if Stiles hadn’t distracted him with long, languid kisses.

Stiles pulled on his sleep pants and walked towards the door, stretching his arms high above his head. He paused in front of their floor-length mirror. He smirked a little at the litany of bruises and marks along his collar, chest, stomach, and hips and he was sure he had a lot more on his back. He rubbed his left arm unconsciously as he traipsed down to the kitchen.

His left arm from forearm to his entire scapula was tattooed, including the spot between his shoulder blades that bore the Hale triskelion with small circles at the end of each spiral. Most of his tattoos were runes and words disguised under artful spirals and curls and only Stiles knew what each one meant. Derek always took care never to mark the skin in case he interrupted any of them.

Stiles made enough pancakes, bacon, and eggs enough to feed himself, Derek, and the other pack members in the house before going back up to the master bedroom. Derek was still conked out, now curled up on Stiles’ side of the bed.

Stiles noticed his flashing phone on the bedside and grabbed it. He frowned at a message from his Dad, sent just a couple of minutes ago.

_**From:** Dad_  
 _ **Message:** Morning. The burned victims have been ID-ed. I’m at the station._

_**From:** Stiles_  
 _ **Message:** I’ll be there soon._

Stiles heard a creak from outside and peeked out to see Boyd, only in his pajama bottoms and looking a little sleep rumpled.

“Morning, Stiles,” he murmured.

“Morning, Boyd,” Stiles said. “Got some news on the burn victims. Want to come with or stay here?”

Boyd grew more awake at that, nodding. “I’ll come.”

“Good. Breakfast’s downstairs. We leave in fifteen. Is that ok?”

Boyd nodded and jogged down the hall to grab breakfast before taking a shower.

Thirty-five minutes later, which included a run to the nearest store for coffee and pastries for his Dad, Stiles was parking the Jeep right outside the station. He spied his Dad’s cruiser and then jumped out, heading straight inside with Boyd close behind. Deputy Kyle Parrish was manning the front desk, looking conflicted and stressed, which was actually surprising. In the year and a half he’s known the man since he first came to Beacon Hills, Kyle has been nothing but poise itself.

“Morning, Stiles, Boyd,” Kyle said, smiling weakly at them. “Didn’t know you’re all back in town from college. When did you get in?”

“Morning, Deputy,” Stiles said. He noticed Boyd’s eyes narrowing at the man and made to nudge him as inconspicuously as possible but Boyd didn’t say a thing or even greet the man. He tried to see what Boyd was looking at. “Anyway, we all got home a few days ago and we were– Woah! What happened to that?”

“Oh,” Kyle lifted his hand. It was bandaged around the palm and wrist. “Singed my palm last night after carting everything back to HQ after what happened yesterday at the outhouse.”

“Must have burnt them bad,” Stiles commented, wincing. “You ok though?”

Kyla nodded. “I’m good, but trust me, I’ll be better if we actually figured out what the hell happened there. I suppose the Sheriff and Derek told you about the explosion?”

Stiles nodded, talking carefully in case he said something out of turn. “Yeah. They were pretty shocked out of their minds and worried about what happened. Is, um, the one guy and the kid ok?”

“Hard to say. I hope they will be,” Kyle said, a solemn expression crossing his face. “I guess this isn’t how you’d like your first week of vacation to be like.”

Boyd snorted incredulously at that and Stiles had to chuckle.

“Well, I certainly don’t miss stuff like this happening when I’m at Stanford,” Stiles said.

“Stiles!”

They turned to see the Sheriff motioning to his son. Stiles and Boyd waved back.

“Go on ahead,” Kyle said. He motioned to his jacket. “I was just on my way out anyway. Nice talking to you two.”

“You too, Deputy,” Stiles said, as they walked past him.

“And Stiles, Boyd,” Kyle called out. “Make sure you and your friends keep out of the forest, ok? No matter how much of the land is Hale property, keep out. We wouldn’t want any of you getting caught up in anything unpleasant.”

Boyd nodded, though Stiles knew that the warning would be disregarded in a heartbeat, especially by the werewolves.

“Gotcha on that one, Deputy. Thanks.” Stiles waved over his shoulder.

Stiles and Boyd stepped into the Sheriff’s office to see the Sheriff looking morosely at a few pictures on his desk.

“I know that look. What’s wrong?” he asked, throwing himself down on a seat and placing his bag of treats on the table. He handed his Dad his cup of coffee.

“Thanks, son. Hello, Boyd,” John said, taking a gulp. “The men have been identified and things are not looking pretty.”

“When are they ever,” Boyd muttered, reclining on another seat.

“Who are they?” Stiles asked.

“These are two of the burnt victims, the ones who unfortunately didn’t make it alive,” his Dad placed two pictures on the table of a man and a woman in casualwear. “And we’re skipping the gory burned photos. None of us want that at the start of our day.”

Stiles nodded. “Thanks. So, who are they?”

“Albert Coleman, 35, divorced from his wife with a joint custody of their three kids, worked at Kruss Laboratories. He failed to report to work for three days and his car was found deserted ten miles out of the city. Jane Shaw, 26, mother deceased, was living with her cousin while studying for her Masters at Odell University. She was reported missing after failing to attend classes for two weeks.”

“Grim story,” Boyd commented.

“Any links between them other than the disappearing act?” Stiles asked.

“They both disappeared two years ago within a month of each other,” His Dad said. “That’s the only link we have. They don’t have anything else in common, don’t even live in the same state, and seemed to have no possible connection with one another.”

“Have you searched all databases?” Stiles asked. “Like, that’s all you have of them?”

His Dad shook his head. “Looking more into them is out of our jurisdiction, kid. Their local authorities have been informed and we’re coordinating with them so that their families can come identify and claim the bodies.”

“We can probably do a better search,” Stiles mused. “Boyd, can you–”

“Already calling Danny,” Boyd said, his phone out and bringing it to his ear.

His Dad groaned. “While I know Danny is academically encouraged to learn how to tinker with computers, I cannot condone any ‘activities’.” He even performed the air quotes.

Stiles gave him an innocent look despite knowing his Dad wouldn’t fall for it. “What activities? We aren’t doing anything. Ignorance and plausible deniability is bliss after all.”

“Don’t I know it,” his Dad muttered, biting into one of the cream pastries.

“How about the kid and the other burn victim at the hospital?” Stiles asked.

If possible, his Dad’s face grew grimmer. “Coleman and Shaw were easier to identify because the two of them received around less than ten percent of facial burns. Everything from the neck down however was…” He trailed off, waving a hand. “Opposite to them was the third burned victim, with more facial burns than at his body, though it’s still bad. He’s been identified as male, which is a start, but nothing else so far. We have intact fingerprints but we won’t get results until tomorrow at the earliest and the hospital had looked and there was a chance he once had a broken shin. We’re hoping we can also use hospital records to identify him.”

“Is he going to make it?” Boyd asked, phone still to his ear but attuned to the conversation.

His Dad sighed heavily. “Melissa said it’s likely he won’t last, especially with the amount of pain he’s probably in.”

“Damn.” Stiles shifted in his seat uncomfortably, frowning. “The little girl?”

“Now that one is hardest,” his Dad said, frowning hard. “And most alarming. We pegged her for around twelve years old, though we haven’t found any leads on her identity yet. The kid inhaled a lot of fumes and is on an IV drip. Apparently she’s edging towards malnourished. Not only that but there are signs of cuts and burns all over her, not from the fires. They’re more like singed skin and a few scars, though some looked like they’ve only just scabbed over or healed. It’s… it’s bad. We’re looking at possible…” his Dad’s face scrunched up badly. “…possible abuse. We have yet to determine if it’s by any of the other three.”

Stiles jerked in shock and he felt a little downward tug on the Pack bond from Boyd, who looked like he was struck in the face. There was however a sudden rush of warmth that followed, probably from one of the Pack members alerted by their sudden shift in mood and wanted to offer comfort.

His Dad cleared his throat. “And so far we’re still looking for someone who can identify her.”

“How about the outhouse, Sheriff?” Boyd asked. “What were they doing there?”

“We’re not quite sure yet,” his Dad said. “According to the lab, something most likely overheated which caused the explosion. One of the first things they managed to salvage is this.” He pulled out a photo from a folder and slid it over to them.

Stiles and Boyd looked at it. It was a picture of a small black box with a blue screen, but half of it looked close to melted. There were two silver knobs on the side that looked to be for connectors, but that was it.

“What is it?” Boyd asked.

“Don’t know,” his Dad said. “The team I sent to the outhouse is still hauling everything in and taking inventory.”

“Can we take this with us?” Stiles asked.

“Go ahead.” His Dad waved a hand and Stiles immediately stuck it inside his jacket pocket. “I’ll alert you in case we get news, which reminds me that I’m still not quite aware just what is going on and why we have…” he lowered his voice, “Oliver Queen himself, in our town.”

“They’re friends, so don’t worry. We’re meeting with them later to hammer out details,” Stiles said. “I promise I’ll explain soon, Dad. You already have a lot on your plate.”

His Dad glared at him. “No matter how much is on my plate, you know I’m still willing to help.”

“I know, Dad. I know,” Stiles said in a soothing tone, rubbing his Dad’s shoulder. “But we need to know who these people are and what’s happening in the outhouse. Not that we’re sure they’re related to what we’re doing, but it seems to be the only other weird as hell thing happening in town.”

Boyd nodded. “With our luck, no doubt they are related.”

His Dad sighed, rubbing his face. “Anyway, you two get out of here. Figure whatever it is on your end while I figure out mine.”

Stiles and Boyd said their greetings and headed out of the station.

* * *

“Sorry about this, Allison,” Felicity said, fiddling with the little flower in her hands. It was yellow with a purple bow. “If I knew my way around, I wouldn’t have had to drag you out here. I’ll just drop these off and we can go. I mean, I don’t really know the girl but she’s just a kid and I think it’s just something nice to do.”

Allison shook her head with a smile, directing her car into the hospital parking lot. “Nothing to be sorry about, Felicity. And I think it’s sweet, despite Mr. Queen’s worrying.”

“Thanks. And Oliver’s just worrying because it’s our first time here and, you know, werewolves and the fact that within our first hour here we saw people burning to death.” She frowned, rubbing her arms to dispel any bad thoughts.

“I know. Sorry you had to see that.” Allison led the way to the hospital. “And I think you’re handling it pretty well considering you’ve only gotten into the supernatural… what, a week ago?”

Felicity shrugged. She couldn’t go and very well tell Allison that the only reason she wasn’t freaking out now was because she preferred thinking this wasn’t any different from the loony bin set of criminals she and her boys had to deal with back in Starling City as a kind of superhero team.

Hm. Did that mean the Hale pack members were the real superheroes, being supernatural and all? She should ask Oliver about that.

They entered the hospital, walking towards the front desk. A woman with dark hair and wearing a scrub suit was leaning against the counter filling out forms.

“Melissa,” Allison called out. “Morning.”

The woman, Melissa, looked up. She looked tired, but she smiled at Allison.

“Morning, dear,” she said as she and Allison shared a hug.

“Just dropping by with a friend,” Allison said, motioning to Felicity. “This is Felicity. Felicity, this is Melissa McCall, Scott’s mom.”

Oh. The woman on the porch in the picture from Allison’s house suddenly came back to her. It was the same one.

“Hello. Good morning, Mrs. McCall,” Felicity said politely.

“Hello, Felicity,” Melissa gave her a searching look and then glanced at Allison.

“Yes.” Allison nodded. “She’s one of our guests.”

Melissa turned to Felicity, lowering her voice. “Sorry if it’s supposed to be a big secret, but after the explosion yesterday, things have been busy here in the hospital and the pack already asked me to run interference and monitor the new arrivals.”

Felicity looked at both of them, a bit confused.

“Stiles, I take it?” Allison asked.

Melissa nodded. “Yes. That boy is as thorough as they come. He calls Derek a worrier but he’s worse than the Alpha himself. I don’t know if it’s because he’s emissary, he’s half of the Alpha pair, or his natural tendency to worry.”

“Probably a combination of all three,” Allison said, smiling fondly.

Melissa chuckled. “Anyway, Derek’s already in if you want to join him. God knows that man would have found a way to walk inside without anybody knowing so I’m just relieved he actually asked my permission first.”

“Derek’s here / Alpha Hale?” They asked her.

Melissa looked at them both, confused. “Yes? He came in just a few minutes ago. I assume that’s why you’re here too.”

“Um, no, not really,” Allison said. “Felicity just wanted to see the little girl.”

“Just wanted to drop these off,” Felicity said, showing her the flowers. “I won’t make trouble, I promise. Just in and then out.”

“That’s nice of you,” Melissa said, and then gave them an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I just assumed you’d be with him.” She led them down the hall to the rooms.

“Why is Derek here?” Allison asked.

“Not sure, really,” Melissa said. “He was in a bit of a rush when he came in and started using his were– I mean…” She glanced at Felicity.

“It’s ok,” Allison said. “She knows.”

“Oh, good,” Melissa said, relieved. She lowered her voice. “He said something about sniffing evidence.”

Melissa took them to the restricted area where the little girl was kept along with the burned man. Seeing as the place was technically restricted, Felicity let Melissa pop in and place the flowers in a vase for the little girl. She was sleeping soundly, hooked up to a few machines and monitors. Felicity hoped she’d regain consciousness soon.

Melissa was coming out of the room in time to see someone coming their way from one of the other rooms. It was Derek Hale. He was frowning, his heavy brows pinched together, and his hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket. He looked up, saw them, and looked surprised.

“Derek,” Allison said, smiling brightly and waving a hand. She met him halfway and reached towards the man, touching his forearm.

“Morning,” Derek said, giving her a small smile and reaching up to place a hand on her shoulder before cupping the back of her neck.

“You all finished?” Melissa asked, approaching him and patting his arm.

“Yes, thank you,” Derek said, touching her shoulder the same way he did with Allison.

Felicity pursed her lips in thought. Was that a greeting of some sort? She remembered Oliver and Isis Lesedi grasping forearms from before, and Allison and her father, Chris, did that with Oliver too. Was there some kind of required handshake or something?

Derek turned to her and Felicity found herself feeling flustered, something that always happened in the presence of really attractive men, save for Diggle while he was attractive, he was like an older brother and therefore didn’t count. She suddenly remembered her less than stellar introduction to Alpha Hale yesterday. That was embarrassing.

Supernatural skills aside, Derek Hale seemed to be the embodiment of the proverbial Alpha male. He had dark hair, really striking eyes, a beard that only accentuated a chiseled jaw and some really insane cheekbones, and full lips. He had wide shoulders, lean hips, long legs, and a buff body to boot. He was pretty hot.

“G-Good morning, Alpha Hale,” she squeaked out, holding out a hand before suddenly taking it back and then offering it again. “Er, um, I’m not quite sure about…”

She didn’t really know anything about the supernatural hierarchy and stuff but an Alpha was pretty high up on the food chain. Should she be formal?

Derek reached out to her, holding her hand in one of his large warm palms. He gave her a small, subdued smile. “It’s fine. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Y-You too,” she said, looking down at his hand.

Alpha Hale had large hands too. It reminded her of Oliver. She wondered how the claws come out. Where they just lodged in there and slide out a la Wolverine? How long were they? Did their feet get claws too? And, the possibility of it took her breath away, what did an actual werewolf transformation look like?

Somebody cleared their throat. Felicity wasn’t sure who but she snapped out of it, immediately releasing Derek’s hand and looking at him, mortified.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… for someone who just became in the know about…” She held up her hands, turning them into claws and making a little growl. “Everything’s so new, like I’d never thought I’d shake hands with an Alpha werewolf, you know? I mean, in my wildest dreams, I’d have thought a werewolf would just claw me to death.” She waved her hands. “Not that I think you would, Alpha Hale! It was just a hypothetical.”

The three had varying degrees of amusement on their faces.

“It’s fine,” Derek said. “And just Derek is fine, too. You don’t have to be so for–” He stopped. His head whipped around to look back in the room. Suddenly, he broke into a run.

Felicity glanced at Allison and Melissa before they all ran after him.

“Derek!” Allison called after him.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a scuffle. Felicity’s breath hitched. The sound came from the burnt man’s room.

They reached the door and Derek pushed it open. They came up behind him and peered into the room. Felicity gasped at the sight. Someone was crouched over the man’s body, both feet literally planted on the hospital bed on either side of the man’s ribs and knees bent low. One hand was wielding a knife. He, or maybe she, was dressed in all black, from boots to the cloth wrapped around his head, even over his eyes.

The burnt man was awake and was half-sitting up on his bed, an arm raised as if to defend himself. Most of his face, neck, and upper torso were bandaged save for an eye and an ear and an exposed collarbone. His visible eye wide was with fear. He reached for them with his other hand.

“Help me! Please!”

Derek growled and at that moment there was no doubt in Felicity’s mind that he was a werewolf. But before he could make a move, the intruder pulled out a gun from his pocket and fired.

Derek grabbed Felicity by the arm and they all ducked back in the hall with Allison and Melissa. Derek let out a roar and jumped back inside the room.

“DEREK!” Felicity shouted.

“I’ll call the cops!” Melissa shouted as she sped off.

There was another gunshot and Felicity ducked down, curling into a ball. Allison lowered down into a crouch and crawled into the room, peering inside carefully. She ducked her head as Derek came flying back out the room and skidding across the floor. Felicity watched Allison pull out a gun from under her skirt before making her way into the room.

“Allison, don’t!” Derek snarled.

Felicity hurried after her, trying to grab onto Allison. By the time they got inside it was too late.

The was no black ninja in sight, and the room was empty save for a burn victim on the bed with a bleeding chest.

None of them had to check because the It was only then that Felicity registered the sound and saw the monitors.

The man was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be doing my best to churn out longer chapters on each update.
> 
> Comments and critiques are always appreciated. Thank you.


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